


You Have One New Message

by elle_m, sherlockianworld



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Bickering, Borderline Alcoholism, Drugs, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Suicide, John is bisexual, John is insecure, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Parental Abuse, Pining, Queens of Angst, Sherlock is gay, Sherlock is insecure, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teen!John, Texting, They are both so stupid when will they get their shit together, They are burning we are burning literally everything is on fire, This got really dark really fast, Violence, We are sorry., plenty of angst, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:59:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 30,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7457152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_m/pseuds/elle_m, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockianworld/pseuds/sherlockianworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A roleplay by myself and elle_m over Viber. Additional information and tags to follow. </p><p>This work was inspired by the beloved 'A Finger Slip' by Pawtal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. June 10th 2016

**June 10 th 2016**

**(11:46) See ya at Mike’s Saturday? JW**

(12:00) No, you won’t. Also, next time you might want to double-check the number before you hit send. SH

**(12:08) So you’re NOT Sannah Hannigan? JW**

(12:37) No. As my previous text very clearly implied, you have the wrong number. SH

 

**(16:43) But your initials. You are shitting me, right? See you 6 pm? JW**

(17:32) Why would I be “shitting” you, as you so finely put it? No, I’m not Sannah Hannigan. Now please, I have more important things to do. SH

**(17:43) Oh, you’re for real. Sorry random person. What important things do you have to do anyway? JW**

(17:49) Excellent observation, stranger. And I’m fairly certain it’s none of your business. SH

**(17:51) Touchy subject, eh? You what, dealing drugs in the night? JW**

(18:02) It’s 6 p.m. SH

**(18:11) Prep work? JW**

**(18:12) Was I far off? JW**

(18:15) For one, if I were a drug dealer, why would I tell you? Are you interested in buying? SH

**(18:21) Is this how you get your clients? Lousy PR campaign if you ask me. JW**

(18:34) Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not a drug dealer. Shouldn’t you be texting Sannah Hannigan? I’m sure she would be delighted. SH

**(18:41) Well, I DID text her, but now I’m stuck with you. So, what you wearing? Are you also blonde and fit like Sannah? Heck, I don’t even know your name. Or gender. JW**

(18:45) Are you flirting with me? SH

(18:46) The name’s Sherlock. SH

**(18:48) I don’t flirt, I charm. JW**

**(18:49) John Watson. JW**

**(18:51) Sherlock is a girl’s name. JW**

(19:01) Lovely. SH

(19:04) Last time I checked, it really wasn’t. SH

**(19:10) Are you insinuating what I think you are? ;) JW**

(19:15) I have no idea what you’re talking about. SH

**(19:24) Are you Amish? JW**

(19:30) Are you as boring as your name? SH

**(19:35) Hey no need for that. I can be fun. JW**

**(19:41) Allow me to demonstrate. JW**

(20:32) My first impression of you says otherwise. SH

(20:34) I’m rather busy, John. SH

**(20:40) Knock knock. JW**

(20:45)You can’t be serious. SH

**(20:48) Knock knock. JW**

(20:49) No. SH

**(20:53) Who’s there? JW**

**(20:59) Doctor. JW**

**(21:04) Doctor Who? JW**

(21:11) You’re ridiculous. That doesn’t make any sense. SH

**(21:18) Hang on just one sec. Have you NOT heard of Doctor Who, THE television show of this century? JW**

**(21:21) How old are you?! JW**

(21:32) No, I haven’t. I have more important things to do than rot my brain watching some tedious TV show. SH

(21:33) I’m the same age as you. SH

**(21:40) How could you possibly know my age? JW**


	2. June 12th 2016

**June 12 th 2016**

**(01:34) Heyyyyyyy guyty in my phone!!! 2hy are you wo ruudr? JW**

**(02:01) I bet ur tly tall and douchyyy. JW**

**(02:32) I bet ur fun at paeties. JW**

(02:53) And you’re drunk. Go to sleep, John. SH

**(02:55) Im not drunk ur drunk.** **JW**

(03:12) And to answer your question, it’s obvious. The language you use says you’re in your teens. You’re going to a party at your friend’s, not to a bar—you’re underage. Then there’s Sannah. You’re asking a girl out on a date and you focused on describing her appearances, fit and blonde. That suggests you’re a hormone-driven teenager. Possibly 16, but I’d say 17. SH

**(03:14) Wowww aren’t u dreamy ;) JW**

(03:16) Drink some water and go to bed before you do or say something you'll regret. SH

**(03:18) Come over and make,me ;) JW**

(03:20) Where’s Sannah? Aren’t you worried she’ll get jealous? SH

**(03:22) She’s way too good for me anyway** **J** **JW**

(03:28) And what makes you think I’m not? SH

**(03:33) Yoew rude ans mysteriius. Righy sown me ally. Im not gay thoufh. JW**

**(03:34) Ohhh vodka.gumy bears. JW**

(03:37) Is the party really so boring that you’re choosing to text a complete stranger? And no, of course not. SH

**(03:40) Not cmpmete stranger. I know ur name and thy r a bum. JW**

(03:43) Go talk to someone else. Someone who’s not a “bum”. SH

**(03:46) I wpuld.but Ileft the house and im now.lost JW**

**(03:49) Obi-Sherlock Kenobi, you’re my only hope. JW**

(03:51) Oh dear god. Don’t you have GPS in your mobile? SH

**(03:58) I sont know how to use it. I play rugby, im not an engineer. JW**

(04:01) Clearly. SH

 

**(04:32) SOS rowan rd JW**

**(04:33) 4v1 JW**

(04:35) Are you alright? SH

(04:37) Not that I care, but I’d rather not have your death on my conscience. SH

(04:39) Should I call the police? SH

**(04:41) Y JW**

(04:45) What’s going on? SH

(04:46) I’m calling the police. SH

**(11:34) I’m never drinking again. JW**

(11:41) Of course not. SH

**(11:45) No. I’m serious. You saved my life last night. JW**

(11:51) Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think? I only called the police. SH

(11:53) Mind telling me what happened? SH

**(12:06) Okay, yes, it might have been a bit exaggerated. I spent the morning at hospital talking to some officers from Scotland Yard. I was too drunk to fight back properly last night and I was attacked by four men. One of them had a knife and I had to get stitches, lost a bit of blood. JW**

**(12:17) I suppose I owe you one. If you don’t want to hear from me again I will respect your privacy. I have respect for people. JW**

**(12:21) But yes. Thank you anyway. JW**

(13:04) Maybe drink a little less next time. You could have gotten yourself killed. SH

(13:05) You’re welcome. SH

**(13:11) I’m thinking of enrolling anyway. Better get used to the danger… JW**

**(13:14) I don’t know why I’m telling you these things. JW**

(13:21) Well, there are probably better ways to get used to it than getting yourself drunk and picking a fight with some strangers in the middle of the night. SH

**(13:22) Adrenaline junkie I suppose. JW**

(13:23) Me neither. Don’t you really have anything else to do? SH

**(13:25) Honestly? Not really. I like annoying you. JW**

(13:32) Ah, I see. You’re doing pretty well, I must admit. SH

**(13:41) You keep answering though. Surely some part of you enjoys it. :D JW**

(13:42) I’m just passing time. SH

**(13:45) I take that as a yes. JW**

**(13:46) You have hardly told me anything about yourself by the way. Where do you live? Surely I can know SOMETHING about my valiant rescuer. JW**

(13:51) Why would you want to know where I live? Want to send me a thank-you card? SH

**(13:53) What do you do then, aside from fighting crime like a superhero? JW**

(13:55) Yes, you could say I fight crime. But I’m hardly a superhero. SH

**(14:02) No spandex? JW**

(14:04) No, I’m afraid not. SH

**(14:05) Can I have a selfie then? JW**

**(14:06) Give me something to work with. JW**

(14:11) A selfie? SH

**(14:13) You know, a photo. Of your face. JW**

**(14:15) Are you sure you are my age? JW**

(14:17) Not gonna happen. And yes, I’m 17, like I already told you. Why is it so hard to believe? Because I don’t know every stupid slang word? SH

**(14:22) You seem so… sophisticated. It’s a little intimidating. JW**

(14:24) I’m really not. I’m just not interested in those… things. SH

**(14:32) In emoticons? JW**

(14:44) Not in those either. SH

**(14:45) What then? Murder? Being rude? JW**

**(14:47) Talking to me? JW**

The last message was perhaps a little too much to hope for, John knew. The Sherlock in his phone didn’t seem too eager to talk to him.

(14:52) Murder? Yes. Being rude? No. I’m not rude, people are just stupid. SH

(14:55) Well, I guess you’re not completely boring. SH

John’s heart fluttered a little at the comment. He sighed at himself.

**(14:56) Was that almost a compliment? JW**

(14:58) Don’t get used to it. SH

**(15:44) No, your highness. JW**


	3. June 13th 2016

**June 13 th 2016**

**(01:25) Are you awake? JW**

(01:26) It would seem so. SH

**(01:27) What are you doing? JW**

 

**(01:55) Oh no. Please don’t tell me you yourself ended up as a homicide victim. Whoever would I bother in the middle of the night? JW**

(02:03) Oh, I wish. At least that way I wouldn’t have to die of boredom. SH

**(02:05) Why are you always bored? JW**

(02:15) Nothing interesting happens. SH

**(02:17) Not true. Plenty of interesting things happen. I broke someone’s nose today. JW**

(02:21) You what? SH

**(02:24) Broke someone’s nose. The thing in the middle of your face that air passes through. JW**

(02:29) You must have serious anger issues. SH

**(02:32) Dude had it coming. JW**

(02:35) Was it really necessary to break his nose? SH

**(02:44) No, but he deserved it. I don’t care. JW**

**(02:46) At least I’m not hovering over corpses. JW**

(02:51) What did he do, then? SH

**(02:54) He said something about my sister that I don’t want to repeat in front of another human being. JW**

(02:59) What do you mean hovering over corpses? I don’t do that. SH

(03:01) Ah, you’re protective of your sister. I shouldn’t be surprised. SH

**(03:12) Why not? JW**

(03:15) You didn’t answer my question. SH

**(03:19) I imagine you hover over them like a vampire in the night. JW**

**(03:33) Did you fall asleep after all? JW**

(03:36) Oh please, John, a vampire? Really? SH

**(03:39) No teeth? JW**

(03:45) I do have teeth. SH

**(03:47) Do you have a reflection in the mirror? Do you have a profound hate for garlic? JW**

**(03:49) Going out for a 4 am walk. You might have to call the police again. JW**

(03:51) Trying to get yourself killed, aren’t you? There are easier ways, really. SH

**(03:53) What if I was? JW**

(03:58) Then I guess calling the police last night was a waste of both our time. SH

**(04:00) Tough love. JW**

**(04:15) It’s cold outside. JW**

 

**(04:16** ) **JW** [Mobile? See picture here.](http://i.imgur.com/GxvKQGt.jpg)

(04:22) Why aren’t you sleeping? SH

(04:23) Go home, John. SH

**(04:28) I could ask you the same. JW**

(04:30) Not tired. SH

**(04:32) Can’t you get tired? JW**

**(04:33) God, that sounded… wrong. JW**

**(04:42) JW[Mobile? See picture here.](http://i.imgur.com/LvvNTiV.jpg)**

** **

**(04:45) JW[Mobile? See picture here.](http://i.imgur.com/EuPZrg8.jpg)**

** **

**(05:04) Guessing sleep took you after all. Night. JW**


	4. June 14th 2016

**June 14 th 2016**

(14:11) Those things will kill you. SH

**(14:12) I know. Medstudent. JW**

(14:17) Future med student? Aren’t you still in college? SH

**(14:19) It’s a long story, but I got to skip ahead some terms. I’m a first year medstud. JW**

(14:19) I see. SH

**(14:25) What about you? JW**

(14:28) Still in college, unfortunately. SH

**(14:29) Bummer. JW**

**(14:29) What are you going to do after? JW**

**(15:48) Have you been murdered yet? JW**

(15:59) Afraid not. SH

(16:00) My parents want me to apply to Oxford or Cambridge or something equally dull. SH

**(16:00) I’m at Cambridge. JW**

**(16:01) Would that make it less dull? JW**


	5. June 15th 2016

**June 15 th 2016**

**(02:57) Adventure. JW**

**(02:57)  JW[Mobile? See picture here.](http://i.imgur.com/PfSeX0c.jpg)**

** **


	6. June 16th 2016

**June 16 th 2016**

**(01:53) Sherlock? JW**

(01:59) Hello, John. SH

(02:00) I got caught up in a case. SH

 **(02:05) Elaborate? :)**   **JW**

(02:10) It was nothing special. Turned out to be a total waste of my time. A woman killed her maid after finding out her husband was cheating on her with the maid. Dull. SH

(02:15) You really seem to enjoy wandering around dark streets alone. Don’t you have any friends? SH

**(02:17) Plenty, but when I can’t sleep I head out. JW**

**(02:22) I am considering heading out again. It’s thundering. Relaxing. :)**   **JW**

**(02:25) I do need to work out more for rugby practice anyway. JW**

(02:33) What’s keeping you awake? Unlikely you’re stressing about your studies—you seem laid-back. Problems with your family? Perhaps you’re worried about your sister? SH

 **(02:35) Family drama is a constant if you’re a Watson. :)**   **JW**

(02:37) Wouldn’t it be more convenient to work out in a gym? SH

**(02:40) It would be, but not as fun. JW**

**(02:41) Speaking of which, I just left my dorm. JW**

(02:44) Try not to get killed. SH

**(02:45) Wouldn’t dream of it. I can’t get on your nerves if I’m dead. JW**

**(02:49) Change of plan. I was outside for 2 minutes and now I’m bloody soaking. I’d rather not get pneumonia. JW**

**(02:55) Is this when I tell you I’m gonna get naked? ;) JW**

(02:59) Very smart of you, John. SH

(03:00) I hope not. SH

(03:00) Save that for Sannah. SH

**(03:01) She is a lesbian as it turns out. JW**

**(03:04) So I’m all yours now. You DO share initials. JW**

**(03:06) The tattoo I got on my chest wasn’t a total waste of money. JW**

**(03:15) Sherlock, it was a joke. JW**

(03:16) Obviously. SH

**(03:18) You don’t think would get a tattoo? JW**

**(03:20) You know, I like a challenge. JW**

(03:25) I’d hoped you wouldn’t be stupid enough to tattoo someone’s initials on your skin. SH

**(03:27) If they meant enough to me maybe I would. JW**

**(03:29) I am considering getting a tattoo now, just to be able to tell you I did it. JW**

(03:40) Whatever, it’s your skin. I don’t care. SH

**(03:50) Fine. I will do it. Just you wait. JW**


	7. June 18th 2016 - June 19th 2016

**June 18 th 2016**

**(21:43) JW[Mobile? See picture here.](http://i.imgur.com/1fmWLbu.jpg)**

** **

**(21:46) Surprise. JW**

(21:46) You can’t be serious. SH

**(21:47) Yet. Completely, utterly serious. I’m a whack-job. JW**

(21:52) Apparently. SH

**(21:53) Do you like it? JW**

(21:58) Ah, let me see. No. SH

**(21:58) Would you have preferred something more ominous? A tattoo of a stab wound? JW**

(21:59) I’d hoped for something more original. SH

**(22:00) How about “Sherlock is a wanker?” JW**

(22:01) So very mature. SH

**(22:03) I thought I was being witty. JW**

(22:04) Sorry to break it to you then. SH

**(22:04) I bet you’re fun at parties. JW**

(22:06) I don’t go to parties. SH

**(22:07) Of course you don’t. As soon as you entered the room the party would be over. JW**

(22:10) At least I wouldn’t be the one who gets too drunk and needs to be admitted to a hospital. SH

**(22:10) The booze didn’t stab me. JW**

**(22:11) Speaking of which, there is a party tomorrow night in my dorm that I might attend. Since you live in London, do you wanna join? JW**

(22:14) I’ve already got plans. Thank you anyway. SH

**(22:15) Really? JW**

**(22:15) Why are you always so bloody mysterious? JW**

**(22:16) I talk to you yet I hardly know a thing about you. Aside from that you’re a maniac. JW**

(22:18) Well, not really, I was just trying to be polite. SH

(22:18) I’m not. SH

**(22:19) Yes, you are. You’re still talking to me. JW**

(22:20) No, I’m just replying. SH

**(22:21) Are you a bot? JW**

**(22:21) Have I been talking to a Chinese computer all this time? JW**

(22:24) Ha, ha. SH

**(22:25) You didn’t deny it. JW**

**(22:25) I’ve gone and befriended a PC. I feel like suck a knob. JW**

**(22:30) God knows which website my stomach will end up on. I should have thought this through. JW**

(22:33) Oh god. You actually got a tattoo? SH

**(22:33) Yep. JW**

**(22:34) I told you I would do it. JW**

**(22:37) What does H stand for, anyway? JW**

**(22:37) Sherlock Hannibal? JW**

(22:39) Yeah, you did. A man of his words, I see. SH

(22:39) Holmes. SH

**(22:40) Sherlock Holmes? Your parents must love you. JW**

(22:41)What’s that supposed to mean? SH

**(22:41) Nothing. JW**

**(22:41) Unusual name, is all. JW**

**(22:49) If I held you at gunpoint, would you then tell me more about yourself? JW**

(22:51) What do you want to know? SH

**(22:51) What do you look like? JW**

(22:54) And why is that important? SH

**(22:54) Curiosity. JW**

**(22:55) You’ve seen my stomach. The least you can do is return the favour. JW**

(22:57) SH [Mobile? See picture here.](http://i.imgur.com/RQOZeug.jpg)

 

**(22:58) Wow. JW**

**(22:59) That’s you? JW**

(23:03) Yes. SH

**(23:04) No way I’m showing my face now. JW**

(23:09) That’s ridiculous. SH

**(23:10) No, it’s not. JW**

(23:13) Yes, it is. Show me your face. SH

**(23:14) No way. You’ve probably figured out what I look like already anyway. JW**

(23:18) You do know that’s impossible, don’t you? SH

**(23:19) Is it? JW**

**(23:21) Not showing my face. Thank you for yours though. JW**

(23:22) I knew it was a mistake to send that pic. SH

**(23:23) Mistake? I wouldn’t call it a mistake. You look… good. JW**

(23:26) Oh. Thank you. SH

**(23:26) Most would consider you attractive, even. JW**

**(23:31) I will show you me on one condition. JW**

(23:32) Well? SH

**(23:33) You have to promise me you won’t laugh. JW**

(23:34) You have my word. SH

**(23:35) Alright. Here goes. JW**

**(23:35) JW[Mobile? See picture here.](http://i.imgur.com/EvdDwjF.jpg)**

****

 

**(23:49) Sherlock? You’re beginning to freak me out. JW**

**(23:50) Please say something. JW**

**(23:53) I knew this was a bad idea. JW**

**(23:54) I’m going out. JW**

(23:57) No. SH

(23:57) No, it wasn’t. I mean. You look good. SH

**June 19 th 2016**

**(00:05) Oh. JW**

**(00:05) Well, I… thanks. JW**

**(00:35) I suppose we all have some teenage anxiety. JW**

**(05:13) Going to sleep now, I… talk to you tomorrow? JW**

**(18:37) I’m going to my family’s place this weekend. You won’t hear from me much. JW**

(18:44) Sounds like a lot of fun. SH

**(18:53) Yeah.. JW**


	8. June 24th 2016

**June 24 th 2016**

**(13:31) Packed up. On the train. JW**

(13:43) What’s wrong? SH

**(13:44) Wrong? I told you. Going to my family this weekend. JW**

**(13:44) Did you forget? JW**

(13:45) No. Short sentences, no joking. Not really your style, now is it? SH

(13:58) You don’t have to tell me, John. Have a safe ride. SH

**(14:08) There is nothing to tell. JW**

**(14:08) What are you doing? JW**

**(14:08) Might as well savour the train ride. JW**

(14:13) Of course not. SH

(14:13) Measuring how long it takes for different hair types to burn. SH

**(14:14) What could you possibly do with that information? JW**

**(14:14) Am I in the risk zone for being blonde? JW**

(14:15) You’d be surprised. SH

(14:15) And yes, it seems so, I’m afraid. SH

(14:17) Blonde hair tends to be thinner, and thus burns more quickly. Nothing you can do about it. SH

**(14:18) Let’s hope no one is out to set it on fire, then. JW**

**(14:19) Where did you even get all the hair from anyway? JW**

(14:33) From the Barts morgue. SH

**(14:34) Hang on a second. You take off of dead people? JW**

**(14:34) Creepy. JW**

**(14:34) Aren’t you afraid you will be haunted by hair -salonists from the other side? JW**

(14:46) They are dead. It isn’t as if they cared. SH

**(14:46) *muffled demonic voice* Give me my hair back, Sherlock Holmes! JW**

(14:47) Dear god. Do you really believe in such crap? SH

**(14:48) You will be running straight to me when the zombies are out for you. JW**

(14:51) I doubt that. SH

**(14:51) Fine. But when the zombies take me, I will be the one to eat your brains. JW**

(15:52) You wouldn’t be able to catch me. SH

**(15:53) Are you fast? I play rugby. I’d tackle you to the ground. JW**

(14:54) I’m clever. I know where to hide. SH

**(14:54) I’d smell the posh from miles away. JW**

**(14:54) Smells like aristocracy and expensive perfume. JW**

(14:55) I’m not posh. SH

**(14:55) You sound posh. And you look a little posh. JW**

(14:59) Ah, so now you’re insulting me. Lovely. SH

**(15:00) No. No, I’m not. I’m just stating facts. If I were a zombie you would be so screwed. JW**

(15:01) I’m busy. SH

**(15:01) Well, this is my stop anyway. Try not to burn your place down while I’m gone. JW**

**(15:03) I might be able to catch you in the evening. If you care, of course. JW**

**(23:43) Guess not. JW**


	9. June 25th 2016

**June 25 th 2016**

(17:52) Am I not too posh for you? SH

(17:52) And like I said, I’m busy. SH

 

(20:34) Have you gotten yourself killed? SH


	10. June 26th 2016

**June 26 th 2016**

(18:07) John? SH

 

(23:54) Are you alright? SH


	11. June 27th 2016

**June 27 th 2016**

**(03:30) I’m back. JW**

(03:45) Hello, John. Did you enjoy your family gathering? SH

**(03:46)Yeah, was good. JW**

(03:48) Sure? SH

**(03:52) Yeah, just the usual. :) JW**

(03:55) And what might that be? Not sure if it has occurred to you, but I haven’t met your family. SH

**(03:56) You should be happy you haven’t. JW**

**(03:59) God, I don’t even know why I confide in you with these things. I’ve never even met you. JW**

**(04:00) You must think I’m crazy. JW**

(04:05) No. No I don’t think you’re crazy. SH

(04:11) Look, John. I’m not going to tell anyone. Who would I tell, anyway? SH

**(04:15) Yeah, you’re right. JW**

**(04:25) Alright. My sister Harry came out two years ago and my dad, well, he didn’t take it very well. Whenever she is visiting back home I need to come along to protect her. I’m bruised, a broken rib. But Harry is okay. JW**

**(04:27) And please, you can’t tell ANYONE. Not a soul. JW**

**(04:30) We’re good at hiding it, Harry and I. JW**

(04:32) John, you have to tell someone. You can’t just let him abuse you. SH

(04:35) I’m serious. You might not be so lucky next time. SH

**(04:40) I can’t. JW**

(04:41) Why? SH

(04:43) You have to. SH

**(04:47) You can’t force me to. JW**

**(04:49) It would be the end of his career, the end of my university funding, the end of any chance I have at a future. JW**

(04:51) No, you’re right. I can’t force you. SH

(04:52) But think about it, John. He’s dangerous. I’m sure you could figure something out. SH

**(05:00) There is one option. JW**

(05:01) Let him continue to abuse you? SH

**(05:02) No. Not that. JW**

**(05:03) You know how I spoke of enrolment a few nights ago? JW**

(05:05) Yes? SH

**(05:06) That is the option. I join military service and train to become a battle medic. JW**

**(05:08)  I’m nearly 18. JW**

(05:10) And give up on medical school? SH

**(05:11) Yes. JW**

(05:13) You wouldn’t mind? SH

**(05:21) Well. It’s either getting beat up an old man, or getting shot at during deployment. Which would you prefer? JW**

(05:30) I don’t know. Neither. Your father belongs in prison, and you shouldn’t need to give up your studies because of him. That’s just not right. SH

(05:31) There has to be another option. SH

**(05:33) You’re the genius. JW**

(05:35) I haven’t the slightest why I’m offering you this, but maybe my brother could help you. SH

**(05:40) Because you have been blown away by my charm and my good looks? JW**

**(05:41) Ah, John Watson is coming back. JW**

**(05:41) ;) JW**

(05:45) I’m glad. I prefer this version of you. SH

(05:46) If I must choose, that is. SH

**(05:47) I’m glad. JW**

 

**(06:32) Why are you being nice to me? JW**

(06:35) I’m always nice. SH

**(06:37) No, you’re not. JW**

**(06:38) Why me? JW**

**(06:39) I’m as ordinary as it gets. JW**

(06:42) I don’t know. SH

 

**(07:12) Can I call you? JW**

(07:20) I prefer to text. SH

**(07:25) Yeah, nevermind. It was a stupid idea. JW**

**(07:36) Have I offended you? JW**

**(08:00) God, I wish I hadn’t told you all this. JW**

**(08:43) I’m such a prat. Just ignore everything I’ve said in the past few hours. JW**

 


	12. June 28th 2016

**June 28 th 2016**

**(02:23) I’m heading out. Leaving my phone at home. JW**

(02:29) No, you didn’t offend me. I got a call from Scotland Yard. Just got caught up, that’s all. SH

 

(03:20) Are you back home yet? SH

 

(04:10) John? SH

**(04:12) I’m home. JW**

**(04:15) I thought you preferred to text. JW**

(04:17) Are you alright? SH

(04:19) I didn’t lie. SH

**(04:22) Yeah, I’m fine. No incidents this time. JW**

**(04:24) What was the case? JW**

(04:33) Still working on it. SH

**(04:35) Is there anything you can share with me? JW**

**(04:39) I gave you a pretty huge chunk of my life. Why do you lock yourself up? JW**

**(04:41) It’s not like we’re bound to meet anyway, right? JW**

(04:45) Well, the police believe it’s a suicide, but obviously it’s not. I just can’t prove it. Yet. SH

(04:49) Why do you care? I doubt you’d be interested. SH

**(04:50) I am interested. JW**

**(04:52) You are the most interesting person I’ve met in a long time. JW**

(05:10) Well, that’s new. SH

**(05:12) What, no one has found you interesting before? I find that hard to believe. JW**

(05:15) People normally tell me to piss off before I’ve had time to introduce myself. SH

**(05:18) Really? JW**

**(05:18) But you’re extraordinary. JW**

(05:22) You think so? SH

**(05:24) Why do you think I keep texting you? JW**

(05:26) You’re bored, probably. SH

**(05:29) That is true. And although I was expecting Sannah, you have turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Even when you are being an arse—which is always. JW**

 

**(05:40) Sherlock? I don’t actually think you’re an arse. JW**

**(05:50) Sherlock? JW**

(05:57) Good. That’s good. SH

**(05:59) I… would you mind sending me another picture? JW**

(06:00) Of what? SH

**(06:01) You. JW**

(06:02) Why? You already know what I look like. SH

**(06:04) It’s for an experiment. JW**

(06:11) Oh, please. What kind of experiment would require photographs of my face? SH

**(06:15) If I told you, it would ruin the experiment. JW**

(06:17) I’m not going to be your test subject. SH

**(06:18) Okay. Fine. I will send you one if you send me one. JW**

(06:20) You’re not going to give up, are you? SH

**(06:23) Giving up? No. JW**

(06:25) Fine. You first. SH

**(06:27) That’s not fair. JW**

(06:29) It’s more than fair. You’re the one who wanted to share pictures in the first place. SH

**(06:31) God. Fine. Prick. JW**

**(06:32) JW[Mobile? See picture here.](http://i.imgur.com/GEddYMJ.jpg)**

** **

(06:36) SH [Mobile? See picture here.](http://i.imgur.com/z0xADF9.jpg)

(06:36) Hope you're satisfied. SH

**(06:40) Oh, I am. JW**

**(06:43) Sherlock? JW**

(06:44) John. SH

**(06:45) I’ve been thinking. JW**

(06:47) Yes well, I do that sometimes too. SH

**(06:49) Ha-ha. Very funny.** **JW**

**(06:51) God, my dad is going to kill me. JW**

(06:52) What? Why? SH

(07:00) John? SH

**(07:01) I can’t say it. JW**

(07:03) Type it then. SH

**(07:05) I’m having an identity crisis. JW**

**(07:06) God, why am I talking to you about this? This is such a petty issue. JW**

(07:07) I wouldn’t say it’s petty if your father is going to kill you because of it. SH

**(07:08) Oh god, he really is. JW**

**(07:09) You have to promise not to tell a soul. JW**

(07:09) I promise. SH

**(07:15) I think I might be bisexual. JW**

(07:20) Oh. SH

(07:21) That’s fine. SH

**(07:22) I know it’s fine. JW**

**(07:23) I just… I don’t know. I’m confused. JW**

(07:24) That’s perfectly normal. SH

**(07:25) You know? JW**

(07:25) Yes. SH

(07:26) You might not want to tell your father though. SH

**(07:27) No, I might not want to do that… JW**

**(07:28) How am I supposed to hide it from him? JW**

(07:30) Look, what I said before, John. I meant it. My brother could help you, but I need you to go to the police. You have to tell them. SH

**(07:32) I can’t risk Harry. JW**

(07:34) You won’t. SH

**(07:42) I’m going to speak to the enrolment agency tomorrow. JW**

(07:45) Now, listen to me. My brother can fix this. You just have to trust me. SH

**(07:47) I hardly even know you, Sherlock. I haven’t even heard your voice. I know practically nothing about you. JW**

(07:49) I know. Sorry. You’re right. Ignore all of that. SH

**(07:51) If I’ll get shot at, then so be it. JW**

**(07:52) I have little to lose. JW**

(07:55) Only your life. SH

**(07:56) Hardly worth much. Uni friends, getting pissed and taking nightly walks. JW**

**(07:58) Dull. Like you said. Right? JW**

**(08:10) Can I please call you? JW**

(08:12) Why? SH

(08:15) Do I have to have a reason? JW

 

With trembling fingers John hovers over Sherlock’s contact information, before pressing call.

_-beep beep-_

The dialling tone is impossibly loud in John’s ear.

 

As Sherlock is lying on his back, his phone starts ringing, startling him. He stares at the screen, at the caller ID, and a flicker of panic makes his stomach twist. John’s calling him. John Watson, the stranger in his phone who has tolerated him for so long, is calling him. John’s been patient with him longer than anyone else ever has, and now Sherlock’s going to ruin it. He can’t control his spoken words. He’s certain he’ll say something that annoys John, something that makes him never want to text Sherlock again. He cringes. John is going to hate him, of that Sherlock is sure.

At least, John can’t punch him through the phone, Sherlock thinks bitterly as he answers the call.

“John?”

“I- Sherlock. Hi. It’s good to hear your voice. I…hi. How are you?”

“Fine. I’m… fine. Er…you?”

“I’m… I’m alright, now. Thanks, yeah.”

John hopes Sherlock can’t hear him shivering as Sherlock’s baritone voice sounds in his ear.

“Your voice is deeper than I thought.”

“Um…thank you?” Sherlock hesitates for a moment. “You sound exactly like I imagined.”

“I…” John signs and rubs his palm across his face. “You imagined me?”

“No! No. I—er…Well, I imagined how you'd sound.”

Suddenly John’s mouth feels oddly dry. There’s an awkward silence, and Sherlock swallows uncomfortably.

“I…Sherlock?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you… go for a coffee, sometime?”

Sherlock feels something flutter in his chest as his heart starts pounding. “With you?”

“No, with my grandmother. Yes, with me, you git.”

Sherlock chuckles, hoping John can’t hear the nervous tone in his voice. “I don’t know, John. I—I’m not sure if it’s a good idea.”

“Why not? Might as well see you before I end up in a desert in God-knows-where.”

“You’re really going to do it, then?”

There is a brief moment of silence, then John’s voice crackles over the line.

“Yeah, I… I suppose I am.”

Sherlock swallows against the sudden dryness in his throat as something painful tugs in his chest. He hasn’t even met the boy, yet he’s afraid of losing him. Sherlock scolds himself inwardly for his moment of weakness. He has to pull himself together. He is Sherlock Holmes. He doesn’t care, can’t care about John. Caring is not an advantage, and Sherlock knows it.

“Sherlock?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“’m tired.”

“You should go to sleep then,” Sherlock says, sounding colder than he intended.

“Will you stay with me? I mean, if you don’t have anything important to do.”

“But you’re tired?”

“Yeah, I… Nevermind. I—good night, I s’pose.”

Sherlock hesitates before he replies, “Goodnight, John.”

“I just… your voice. It’s… soothing.”

John can practically _hear_ the blush creeping up his neck.

“What?” Sherlock splutters, and feels his cheeks heat up.

“I-“ John giggles nervously. “I don’t sleep very easily.”

“Ah, you want me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Are you offering?”

Sherlock can’t help the grin that tugs at his mouth. “Absolutely not.”

 

John laughs. Louder than he’s laughed in a long time. “Alright, you prick. But can you stay? Just… hang up when you get uncomfortable?”

“Alright.”

“Thank you, Sherlock” John mumbles sleepily. “For everything.”

 

Not before long, John's breathing slows, his cellphone plastered to his face. His breathing is calm and steady, much like Sherlock's on the other end of the phone.

 

"Sh-Sherlock" John mumbles quietly, fast asleep.

 

“John?”

“Are you awake?”

“John?”

 


	13. June 29th 2016

**June 29 th 2016**

**(11:01) Morning. JW**

(11:35) Good morning. SH

**(11:37) That was the best sleep I’ve had in years. JW**

(11:37) Really? SH

**(11:38) Mm, really. JW**

(11:39) Well, that’s good. SH

(11:39) Good for you, I mean. SH

**(11:40) Yeah. Thank you. It was… nice. JW**

(11:43) Thank me? SH

**(11:44) For staying, I mean. JW**

(11:44) Of course. SH

**(13:57) I spoke with the recruitment office and they will accept me. I will start training next month, and then… well, I don’t know what happens then. JW**

(14:32) It’s official, then. SH

**(14:45) Yeah. I have to pack up my things tomorrow and leave my dorm. I don’t really have anywhere to go. JW**

(14:46) You don’t know where you’re going to stay? SH

**(14:48) Yeah… I suppose I’ll sleep outside somewhere. It will be fine. JW**

**(14:51) It wouldn’t be the first time. JW**

(14:51) What? SH

**(14:58) I’ve been kicked out of my house before. JW**

**(15:00) I’ll find someplace to sleep. JW**

(15:01) You can’t sleep outside. SH

**(15:05) I could always pack my bags and go to dad’s… JW**

(15:05) John, no. SH

**(15:08) There is a homeless shelter around King’s Cross. JW**

(16:00) You don’t belong there. I can arrange you a hotel room. SH

**(16:07) I would feel like an escort. JW**

**(16:10) I can’t accept that. I have slept outside plenty of times before. It’s fine. JW**

(16:10) No, it’s not fine. Believe me, it won’t be a problem. SH

**(16:11) Sherlock. I can’t. JW**

**(16:11) We are talking about a month. I can’t let you do that. JW**

(16:12) I insist. SH

**(16:13) No. JW**

**(16:16) Thank you though, Sherlock. JW**

(16:18) Stop being so stubborn and just accept the offer. SH

**(16:20) Sherlock, it’s way too much. I can’t. I will figure something out. JW**

(16:30) You could come stay at my place. SH

Sherlock stares at the screen, hoping the ground would open up and swallow him. Why would John want to stay at his place?

(16:30) I mean, there’s plenty of room. We don’t even have to see each other. I can stay out of your sight. SH

His heart beating harshly against his ribs, Sherlock dreads for the reply.

**(16:35) Sherlock. Are you sure? JW**

(16:36) Yes. SH

**(16:40) I think I would like that. JW**

**(16:42) If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. JW**

(16:45) No, it’s fine. And don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way. I can have someone else show you to your room, if you want. SH

**(16:46) I was the one that invited you to coffee, remember? Or did I dream that? JW**

(16:47) No. No, you didn’t. SH

**(16:50) Right. God. Okay. Yes. I will accept. JW**

**(17:00) I will see you tomorrow, then? Where am I going anyway? JW**

**(17:05) This is nuts. Please don’t be a serial killer. JW**

(17:06) Just tell me where you are, and I’ll send a car to come get you. SH

**(17:07) Seriously? You will abduct me? JW**

(17:10) If I were a serial killer, I doubt I’d tell you, John. SH

(17:11) Problem? SH

**(17:15) I suppose if that’s the kinky thing you’re into… who am I to stop you? JW**

**(17:16) Will I be bound? Blindfolded? Will you take me to an estate in the country? JW**

(17:22) Seems you’re the one with the kidnapping fetish. SH

**(17:25) No. My fetish is for dry, sarcastic comments. Like that one. JW**

(17:30) Right. SH

**(17:31) I should stop joking, shouldn’t I? JW**

**(17:53) Silence speaks louder than a thousand words. JW**

(18:00) No, it’s… fine. SH

**(18:01) So… what can I expect? What’s a typical day with Sherlock Holmes? JW**

(18:03) Some things are better experienced, don’t you think? SH

**(18:05) Definitely. ;) JW**

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet the writers!
> 
> This is what is REALLY going on when we're roleplaying:
> 
> [Screenshot 1](http://imgur.com/knuqDsM)   
>  [Screenshot 2](http://imgur.com/wVg6LvV)


	14. June 30th 2016

**June 30 th 2016**

**(04:54) I’m at King’s Cross Station. If you are awake. JW**

(04:54) Do you want me to send someone to come get you? SH

**(04:59) Well, it beats GUESSING where I’m going and trying to find it. JW**

(05:00) 6 minutes. SH

**(05:00) That is very precise. JW**

(05:00) I’m precise. SH

**(05:06) Really? A black Sudan? My kidnapping theory remains. JW**

**(05:10) It’s a lovely lady friend you’ve got there. Anthea. She’s on her phone more than I am. JW**

(05:10) She’s not my friend. SH

**(05:15) Can you please tell me where we’re going? Neither Anthea nor the driver is talking to me. I feel like I’m part of a cheesy Italian mafia movie. JW**

(05:17) Oh, please. You’ll find out soon enough. SH

**(05:20) Sherlock Bloody Holmes. JW**

(05:23) 11 minutes. Have some patience. SH

**(05:34) THAT’S your house? Are you a secret millionaire? Am I on a candid camera show? If I am, I swear, I will kill you myself Sherlock. JW**

(05:35) Oh, shut up. It’s not that big. SH

**(05:37) It’s a bloody mansion! JW**

(05:37) Make yourself at home. SH

**(05:38) Where do I go? The car drove off. Do I just walk in?! JW**

(05:38) Just walk in. Mrs Hudson will show you to your room. SH

 

**(06:01) “My room”?! This is bigger than my entire house at home. And where are you anyway? JW**

**(06:12) I think I’m gonna try to get some sleep. JW**

(06:16) I’ll leave you to it then. SH

**(06:17) You didn’t answer my question. JW**

**(06:30) Sherlock? JW**

 

(07:12) Not at home. SH

**(07:20) Okay. JW**

Disappointment makes John’s chest feel heavy. Is Sherlock avoiding him? This was probably a mistake, after all.

**(07:25) Look, if you’re not comfortable with having me around, I can always go somewhere else. JW**

(07:28) No. You’re welcome to stay. SH

**(07:35) Are you sure? You don’t have to do this for me. JW**

(07:36) Positive. Now, get some sleep. SH

**(07:40) Already given up on that project. JW**

**(07:41) Maybe I should see someone for insomnia. JW**

(07:42) Oh, I’m sure my parents could recommend you some therapist if that’s what you want. After all, they made me see all the best ones in town when I was younger. Apparently I’m a lost cause. SH

**(07:47) You had therapy??? JW**

(07:48) You don’t have to act so surprised. SH

**(07:50) But I am surprised. Why were you in therapy? JW**

(07:51) It’s hardly of any importance to you. SH

**(07:52) I’m sorry. JW**

**(08:29) Sherlock? JW**

**(10:33) Sherlock, I’m sort for asking. JW**

 

(18:30) Ask Mrs Hudson to prepare you something you'd like to eat. Otherwise she'll be outside your door in 30 minutes with a tray with overdone meatloaf and potatoes. SH

**(18:40) Uh. Alright. JW**

**(18:45) When will you be home? JW**

(19:02) Not for a while. There's a library down the hall if you get bored. You can also watch telly, I believe that's more your thing. There's one in your room behind the cabinet doors. SH

**(19:10) Thanks. JW**

**(23:30) Still not home? JW**

(23:42) Going to be a late one. Don’t wait up. SH


	15. July 1st 2016

**July 1 st 2016**

**(03:45) And now? JW**

(03:49) Go to bed. I’m serious. SH

 

**(04:52) Sherlock? JW**

**(05:30) Are you avoiding me? JW**

(05:55) No. Why would I be avoiding you? SH

**(06:00) I was hoping you could tell me that. JW**

(06:02) Not avoiding you. SH

(06:02) I’m working on a case. SH

**(06:10) All right. Is there anything I can help with? Can't sleep anyway. JW**

(06:12) If you can make Scotland Yard believe that they're dealing with a serial killer instead of several people just committing serial suicides, then yes, you can help me. SH

**(06:13) I can try? JW**

(06:15) Go ahead. Won't be too easy though. They choose to ignore me because of something as trivial as my age. SH

**(06:17) They are idiots. JW**

**(07:20) Was that you coming home? I heard footsteps above my room. Is that where yours is? JW**

(07:21) Oh god. No, mine's downstairs. It must be my idiot of a brother. If the footsteps were heavy, that is. I didn't know he was coming home today. SH

(07:21) Avoid him at all costs. SH

**(07:25) If I'm not gonna get to see you, at least I might go see him. JW**

(07:25) No! SH

(07:25) John, no. SH

**(07:27) Why not? JW**

(07:28) You don't want to know. SH

**(07:28) Yes, I bloody well do. Or I wouldn't be asking. JW**

**(07:30) I can't just stay here  for a month and not talk to anyone. No offense to Mrs. Hudson. JW**

(07:31) He likes sticking his nose into everybody's business and every single day he's trying to make my life as difficult as possible. He can make yours difficult too. SH

(07:32) But go ahead, say hi. And don't forget to ask how his diet's going. SH

**(07:33) I already have ONE Holmes brother making my life difficult. I'm not sure I'm ready for two, come to think of it... JW**

(07:34) I thought I made it considerably easier by offering you a place to stay at. SH

**(07:36) Yes, that I'm thankful for. JW**

**(07:40) Can I see your room? JW**

(07:45) I don't know. SH

(07:45) I suppose you could if you really want to. But don't touch anything. SH

**(07:46) Where can I find it? Downstairs, you said? JW**

(07:47) Second door on the right. SH

**(07:48) Thanks. JW**

(07:48) Don't touch anything. SH

 

John got up from where he had been lying, and hurried downstairs, nearly knocking Mrs. Hudson over in the process. He uttered his hasty apologies and scurried down the second flight of stairs in the main hall. He quickly found the corridor and the second door on the right. He hesitated.

John was so desperate to find out more about Sherlock; he wanted to understand him. He had a primal urge to do so. But he was also afraid of what he might see.

Had it all been real? Was Sherlock as utterly fascinating as he appeared to be?

John pushed the bedroom door open and entered.

The wall on the far right was covered with a large oak bookcase which stretched from the floor to the very last centimeter underneath the ceiling. It was filled to the brim with books. John's eyes darted over them.

There were books about chemistry, biology and physics, neatly organized and in brand new condition. There were medical books and books which looked to be notebooks. They were heavy-looking and very worn.

Opposite the books stood a fancy, dark-brown desk, and on top of it stood a microscope, petri dishes and a number of test tubes. There was also a gas burner and what looked to be a small container of hair. John chuckled softly at himself. Of course he had been genuine about his experimenting.

Then there was his bed. It was undone and messy; it was something John recognized in himself. Light sleeper too, then.

John let his hand drag softly across the duvet, enjoying the smooth fabric. It smelled like something that could only be Sherlock.

John's palms were sweaty and his heart was pounding heavily.

He fished his phone up out of his pocket.

**(08:10) Are those human eyes? JW**

(08:10) I said don't touch anything. SH

**(08:11) I didn't touch anything. JW**

(08:12) Good. SH

(08:14) Well, what do you think? SH

**(08:17) It's fascinating. JW**

**(08:18) When will you be home? JW**

(08:20) You think so? SH

**(08:21) Yeah. You must be very intelligent. JW**

 

John lingered for a moment longer than perhaps socially acceptable, trying to take in all the pieces of information about Sherlock that were present between the four walls. He took one long last look before he closed the door behind him... and stood face-to-face with a young, costume-clad man.

"What is your business with Sherlock Holmes?" the man said. His eyes were cold and his demeanour was collected.

"I--nothing. He is just letting me stay until I begin my military training, I-"

"Yes, yes. I know all that. But what is your intention with my baby brother?"

"Oh" John said as realisation dawned upon him. "You are the other Holmes."

"Mycroft" said Mycroft.

"I don't have any intentions with your brother. I haven't even met him."       

"Yet you were sneaking around his room like some perverted villain. I will be watching you, John Watson."

The young Mycroft Holmes stormed down the corridor. John thought he was the only person he had ever seen who managed to storm off in a graceful and controlled matter. He scratched his head and walked back towards his room.

 

**(08:40) Mycroft Holmes. JW**

(08:41) Oh, for god's sake, what did he say? SH

**(08:45) Nothing much. JW**

**(08:46) He asked me what my business with Sherlock Holmes was. JW**

(08:46) What did you reply? SH

**(08:47) That my business was nothing, and that I hadn't even met you. JW**

(08:50) Did he threaten you? SH

**(08:51) Sort of. Though, I must say, he doesn't seem very intimidating. JW**

**(08:52) He knew my name. JW**

(08:52) I assure you he knows more than just your name. SH

 

_[09:53] John Watson will no longer be a threat to your safety. You are welcome, baby brother. MH_

[09:53] Keep your fat nose out of this, Mycroft. SH

[09:53] He's no threat to anyone. I can take care of myself. SH

_[09:56] You will thank me. He is not good enough for you. And the situation is being dealt with as we speak. Arrangements have been made. MH_

[09:56] You have no right! SH

[09:56] What have you done? SH

_[09:59] Oh, don't be so sentimental, Sherlock! I assure you the move was not too unpleasant on John Watson. I have merely interfered with his location. He is to start his military training earlier than expected. MH_

_[10:05] He will find his suite at the ATR Winchester more than accommodating. MH_

[10:05] I hate you. SH

[10:05] You can't do that. Take your orders back. SH

[10:06] I mean it, you sick, insufferable arse of a brother. SH

_[10:06] There there, baby brother. It is for your own good. You cannot be hanging around with the likes of John Watson. He will not be able to contact you through his phone, unless you message him first. MH_

[10:07] You don't get to decide who I'm hanging around! SH

_[10:09] Sherlock, I warn you. You will get hurt. MH_

[10:10] I'm not a child, Mycroft. SH

_[10:12] Very well. Do not say I did not warn you. MH_

_[11:25] John Watson has been restored into his old chambers. MH_

(11:27) John, are you alright? SH

**(11:30) I think I was just kidnapped very politely. JW**

(11:32) I'm sorry, John. My brother's an idiot. I understand if you don't want to stay. SH

(11:33) I can still arrange you that hotel room. SH

**(11:35) No. It's fine. It was kind of fun, actually. JW**

(11:37) Fun? You call that fun? Are you serious? SH

**(11:40) Yeah. Considering I have hardly spoken to anyone for a few days. Some adrenaline is always welcome. JW**

**(11:41) They didn't even hurt me. They just nicely asked me to step into the car without question. JW**

(11:43) Well, if you like adrenaline, you've come to the right place. SH

(11:44) And you just followed their order without question? SH

**(11:45) ...yes. JW**

(11:46) You're an idiot. SH

**(11:46) I know. JW**

**(11:47) I thought maybe you would come rescue me and we would ride off together on a unicorn into the sunset. JW**

(11:52) A bit clichéd, isn't it? SH

**(11:53) I suppose. At least I'd get to see you. JW**

**(11:56) Do you know where they were taking me? Your brother's minions? JW**

(11:59) It doesn't matter. I won't let him do it again. SH

**(12:00) It kind of matters to me. What is your brother's problem with me?  JW**

(12:05) Oh, he has a problem with everyone. Don't take it personally. SH

**(12:06) He did have me driven off somewhere. I need to know. JW**

(12:17) Just another place to stay at. SH

**(12:18) I don't believe you. JW**

**(12:20) Are you coming home today? JW**

(12:32) Probably not. Still working on that case. SH

**(12:36) Alright. JW**

**(12:37) Can I ask you a favour? JW**

(12:38) You can always ask. SH

**(12:40) I haven't slept in over 50 hours. JW**

(12:41) Well, why don't you go to bed? SH

**(12:45) I can't sleep. JW**

(12:46) How do you think I could help you? SH

**(12:46) Nevermind. JW**

(12:47) Clearly you have an idea. Just tell me. SH

**(12:48) Nevermind. :) You must be busy anyway. JW**

Not bothering to await Sherlock's reply, John quietly slipped from his room and down the stairs toward Sherlock's bedroom. He knew what he was supposed to do was wrong, and Sherlock would probably never forgive him.

He held his breath and pushed the door open.

(12:49) Oh, please. Just ask it. SH

(12:50) If it's sleeping pills you want, there might be some in my parents' bathroom cabinet. SH

Gently, he set his phone aside on Sherlock's night stand, and sat down on the bed. The smell of Sherlock was already soothing him and he gently laid his head down on Sherlock's pillow, taking a deep breath.

He was asleep in less than 5 minutes.

(13:48) John? SH

***

As a yawn escapes his lips, Sherlock knows that he has to sleep. He still hasn’t managed to prove Scotland Yard that he’s right, but he’s been awake almost 72 hours, and the lack of sleep is slowing his thought processes, making it difficult to focus. But he can’t go home, not when John is there. Sherlock’s desperate to meet him, to see his sandy-blonde hair frame his tanned skin, to see his mouth curve into a smile and his blue eyes twinkle as John tells his impossibly dry jokes, but he can’t. He can’t risk losing him, not now. Not when he’s let himself get sentimental, let himself care about the boy. Caring is not an advantage, and yet here he is, worrying and caring about a boy who will eventually leave him. No one who meets him ever wants to stay. Why would John be an exception? He won’t stay forever, Sherlock knows, but he’s willing to try to prolong the inevitable.

Waiting for John’s reply, Sherlock stares at the screen for three minutes, watching the numbers change, and then puts the phone back in his pocket, assuming that John has finally fallen asleep. He needs to get back to his room, needs to get some sleep. Rising from the chair he’s been sitting on, Sherlock leaves the café and waves down a cab to take him home.

***

Sherlock stops in the door frame, his hand freezing in mid-air. For a moment, he can't bring himself to do anything but stare at his bed, and at the body that is hidden under his bed sheets. John Watson is sleeping in his bed, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his steady breathing, his lips slightly apart, and Sherlock can’t bring himself to do anything but stare. He can feel his heart pounding, threatening to escape his chest, and something warm flutters in his stomach, as John suddenly mumbles something meaningless in his sleep, and in that moment Sherlock realises that he’s screwed. He's utterly and completely screwed.

Swallowing harshly, his throat feeling unbearably dry, Sherlock drops his hand back to his side and takes one last glance at the boy, and then quietly closes the door, leaving the room.


	16. July 2nd 2016

**July 2 nd 2016**

**(00:03) Hey, Sherlock. The sleeping pills helped it would seem. JW**

(00:42) Oh. That's great. SH

**(00:45) Sherlock? JW**

(00:46) Yes? SH

**(00:48) No. Nothing. Nevermind. JW**

John stretched out on his back in Sherlock's bed, not wanting to leave it just yet. He hadn't felt safe since he was a little boy and his mother was still alive. But the scent and the presence that were both so very Sherlock had lulled him to sleep. He rolled over and buried his face in Sherlock's pillow.

Some part of John realized that Sherlock would probably notice that his bedsheets weren't arranged in the same way that he had left them, but he didn't want to think about that now.

**(00:49) Mrs. Hudson is charming. JW**

(00:54) I know. SH

**(00:56) Holy shit. There is a person you actually like? JW**

(00:58) You make it sound like I'm a psychopath. SH

**(00:59) No. Your brother is though. JW**

(00:59) Quite right. SH

**(01:00) Is there anywhere in this house that I can acquire cigarettes? I have run out. JW**

(01:02) I'm afraid not. Mycroft makes sure there's none in the house. SH

**(01:03) Whiskey, then? JW**

(01:04) It's for the better if you stay away from it. SH

**(01:06) Oh, come on, Sherlock! That was one time! JW**

(01:08) Oh, really? SH

(01:08) I almost believe you. SH

**(01:09) Yes, really. Come on! I get to be less bored and you get to ask me embarrasing questions. It's an experiment. JW**

(01:13) No. SH

**(01:25) Aha! I found some in my trainer bag. JW**

**(01:30) Cheers! JW**

(01:34) Oh, lord. SH

**(01:50) Mmmmmmmmm. Is there anyplace I can walk here? JW**

**(01:52) Do u have a yard JW**

**(02:15) Sherlock JW**

**(02:43) i wna go outsir JW**

**(03:24) s h e r l o c k u smell good. JW**

**(04:23) I found a tree. JW**

**(05:32) gooooood nught. JW**

**(11:40) Why do I never listen to you? JW**

(12:02) Because you're an idiot. SH

**(12:05) I'm actually starting to believe I am. JW**

(12:07) Well, that's progress. SH

(12:12) Also, what do you mean I smell good? SH

**(12:14) What do I mean with what, sorry?! JW**

(12:15) Your text last night. You said I smell good. SH

**(12:17) No, I didn't. JW**

(12:17) Yes, you did. Scroll up. SH

**(12:19) Please, don't kill me. JW**

(12:21) Why would I kill you? SH

**(12:27) If I tell you, you probably won't talk to me ever again. JW**

(12:30) Try me. SH

**(12:40) I slept in your bed. JW**

**(12:41) It won't happen again, I'm so sorry. JW**

(12:41) I know you did, but why? SH

**(12:43) You know?! JW**

(12:44) Yes. SH

**(12:47) Since bloody when? How do you know? JW**

(12:48) Came home yesterday. SH

**(13:00) Oh god. JW**

**(13:04) Now, hang on a fucking minute. You came home, but you couldn't even say hi? JW**

(13:06) You were asleep. In my bed. SH

**(13:07) So fucking what? I WANT to see you, Sherlock. But maybe that hasn't crossed that big bloody mind of yours? JW**

**(13:09) Fuck this. I'm going for a walk. JW**

(13:12) So now you're angry with me? You are the one who slept in my bed although I told you THREE times not to touch anything. I should be angry with you. SH

**(13:15) Fuck you, Sherlock. JW**


	17. July 4th 2016

**July 4 th 2016**

**(04:56) I'm sorry. JW**

**(05:14) Fuck. Sherlock. I'm so sorry. JW**

**(06:16) Sherlock. Please talk to me. JW**

**(06:30) Alright, yes, I slept in your bed because it was soothing. It was like you were there, like that night we called. I- Sherlock. Please. JW**

(06:47) What? Soothing? SH

**(06:49) Yes. Calming. Sherlock, if you want to kick me out I will understand. JW**

(06:52) No, it's fine. It's nothing. Forget it. SH

**(06:55) No, it isn't nothing. JW**

**(06:57) I haven't slept a second. I feel awful. JW**

(06:59) There's no need to. I'm not angry. SH

**(07:00) Sherlock. JW**

(07:00) I mean it, John. SH

**(07:02) Okay, alright. Either it's the lack of sleep or I'm going fucking insane. But, can I do it again? JW**

(07:09) Well, why not? If you really want to. SH

(07:10) It isn't as if I could stop you from doing it anyway. SH

**(07:10) You're welcome to join me. JW**

**(07:10) Back at the house, I mean. JW**

**(07:10) I can move, yeah. JW**

(07:16) Of course. SH

**(07:30) I'm gonna sleep then. Night, Sherlock. JW**

(07:31) Good night, John. SH


	18. July 5th 2016

**July 5 th 2016**

**(10:30) I got a call today. I leave for training July 20th. JW**

(10:32) Excited? SH

**(10:36) I'm not sure. JW**

**(10:38) I told them I won't go unless I can bring my phone. JW**

(10:39) Do they really allow you to do that? SH

**(10:41) Apparently not. Not normally. For some reason they agreed in my case though. JW**

(10:45) Oh. SH

**(10:50) I was serious, though. I wouldn't go if I couldn't being it. JW**

(10:53) Really? SH

**(10:53) Really. JW**

**(10:59) God, your bed is comfortable. I don't think I want to ever leave it again. JW**

(11:02) It's the exact same bed as in your room. SH

**(11:05) No. You've slept in this one. JW**

(11:05) Oh. SH

**(11:10) Just tell me if you need to use it. I'll stay in my room if you don't want to see me. JW**

(11:11) No, it's fine. I don't need to sleep. SH

**(11:12) Told you. Vampire. JW**

(11:15) Well, then I must be only a product of your paranoid imagination, considering such fictional characters do not exist. SH

**(11:17) ... Shit. JW**

**(11:18) I knew there was something fishy about this whole situation. Am I in a psych ward? JW**

(11:19) If you believe you're texting a vampire, then yes, probably. SH

**(11:20) Can you turn me into one? JW**

(11:25) Like by biting you...? SH

**(11:26) Yes. :D JW**

(11:28) Hope you taste good. SH

**(11:40) I hope I do, too. JW**

**(22:21) Can I borrow one of your medical books? I promise I'll be careful. JW**

(22:24) Sure, help yourself. SH

**(22:26) Thanks. JW**


	19. July 6th 2016

**July 6 th 2016**

**(10:33) How is the case coming along? JW**

(10:34) It's not! They choose not to believe me although I'm right. I'm always right. But I lack proof! The killer's clever, cleverer than Scotland Yard. SH

(10:35) I need a mistake. There has to be one. SH

**(10:35) How do you know that they're wrong? JW**

**(10:38) It's not obvious to me. JW**

(10:37) One of the victims was shot in the right side of the head. And she was left-handed. Why would a left-handed woman shoot herself in the RIGHT side of her head? SH

(10:38) They've got a solution they like and choose to ignore the facts. SH

(10:39) They don't think it's important that the woman was left-handed. They told me to get a hobby. A hobby, John! SH

**(10:45) You have a hobby. JW**

(10:45) I don't have a hobby. This is my WORK! SH

**(10:46) I'm your hobby. :) JW**

**(10:47) Or at least I'd like to think l am. JW**

(10:48) Oh. You would? SH

**(10:50) It would make my hobby of texting you feel a lot less sad. JW**

(10:52) I suppose I could consider texting you a hobby. SH


	20. July 7th 2016

**July 7 th 2016**

**(09:34) Were you in your room last night? JW**

(10:02) Just had to get a few things. SH

**(10:05) Alright. JW**

(10:06) I was in a hurry. I would have said hi otherwise. SH

**(10:08) Would you? JW**

(10:14) Of course. SH

**(10:15) I'll believe it when it happens. JW**

(10:15) Fair enough. SH

**(10:51) Am I allowed to explore, or will your brother lock me up in the dungeons if I do? I presume you have dungeons? JW**

(11:02) Yes, you're allowed to explore, and no, we do not have dungeons. You might want to avoid my brother's room, though, unless you want to end up alone in a dark cell god knows where. SH

(11:02) Mycroft does love to be dramatic. SH

**(11:06) That sounds like a challenge! JW**

(11:06) Oh, dear god. SH

**(11:09) Maybe I could hide all your socks. I found your sock drawer. It's... organized, to say the least. Who sorts socks by colour, size, pattern and size? JW**

(11:09) Leave my sock index alone. SH

**(11:10) Nope. JW**

(11:12) Wait, you looked into my drawers? You're not allowed to do that! SH

**(11:15) I was bored! JW**

(11:15) Promise me you won't do it again. SH

 

**(12:00) I have hidden 33 socks. JW**

**(12:01) Alright, alright. You big baby. JW**

(12:03) I hope you're kidding. SH

**(12:04) That you're an infant, or that I hid your socks? JW**

(12:05) That you hid my socks, obviously. SH

**(12:07) Nope. I hid them. JW**

(12:07) I hate you. SH

**(12:08) ... JW**

**(12:10) I hope you don't mean that. I can never tell when you're serious. JW**

(12:15) Well, I suppose I don't actually hate you. SH

**(12:16) Good. I hid 33 socks because I accidentally set fire to the 34th. JW**

(12:17) Forget what I just said. SH

**(12:19) Fine. I hid 32. I set fire to one myself because it was fun. JW**

**(12:20) On purpose. JW**

**(12:35) I will buy you a new pair. JW**

**(12:40) I'm going to take a cab back into London to buy cigarettes anyway. What colour would you like? JW**

(12:42) You don't have to buy me socks, John. SH

**(12:45) Bullshit. How about bright pink? JW**

(12:50) Purple. SH

(12:50) If you insist. SH

**(12:51) Exotic. JW**

(12:51) It really isn't. SH

**(14:32) JW[Mobile? See picture here.](http://imgur.com/9ja8VPb)**

** **

**(14:33) Well, shit. JW**

(14:40) Shouldn't come as a surprise to a medical student. SH

**(14:45) Former medical student. JW**

(14:59) Right. SH

 

John decides to sleep in his own bed that night. Before he goes, he leaves the new pair of purple socks on Sherlock's pillow. On a small paper he scribbles "The colour suits you. John" and gently sets it down next to the socks.

He doesn't sleep very well that night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	21. July 8th 2016

**July 8 th 2016**

(06:20) Thank you for the socks. Not really the same quality as my old ones, but I guess they'll do. SH

(07:02) You really think purple suits me? SH

**(07:04) Well, I wouldn't know for sure of course, but yeah. JW**

 

(10:05) Something's wrong. SH

(10:05) The killer's broken his pattern. SH

**(10:10) You ok, Sherlock? JW**

**(10:11) What's happened? JW**

(10:16) Yes, I'm fine. SH

(10:17) All previous victims were women. Now, they've found a man. SH

**(10:18) Are you sure it's the same killer? JW**

(10:18) Of course it's the same killer! SH

(10:20) They were all found dead in their bathtubs. Bathtubs full of rose-scented water. Hardly a coincidence, now is it? SH

**(10:19) So, what does this mean then? JW**

**(10:20) A different motive? JW**

(10:21) Haven't the faintest. SH

(10:23) God, I hate not knowing. SH

**(10:24) Can I help? JW**

**(10:26) I can run, and I can fight. Maybe I can be useful. JW**

(10:29) Wait, what did you say? SH

(10:29) A different motive, yes. Yes. SH

(10:29) John, that's brilliant! SH

**(10:30) Uh. I guess? JW**

(10:31) The killer's getting bored, and well, I can't really blame him for that. He craves appreciation. Applause. He wants to attract attention. He wants the police to know that these are not just suicides. This is only the beginning, something is about to change. SH

**(10:36) Sherlock. You have to be careful. JW**

(10:37) Careful's boring. SH

**(10:38) Well, I suppose I'm not one to talk. JW**

(10:38) Indeed. SH

**(10:41) At least try not to become their next victim. Soon enough they will know you're helping the police. JW**

(10:42) Oh, I'm sure they will. SH

(10:43) This is getting rather exciting. SH

**(10:45) I don't like the way this sounds. JW**

**(10:47) At least text me once a day so I know you're alive. JW**

**(10:53) Please? JW**

**(10:56) If you don't I will smoke 5 packs a day and sleep in Mycroft's bed. JW**

(10:56) Alright, alright, John. I suppose I can do that. SH

**(11:00) Fine. Good. JW**

**(11:03) I didn't really look forward to sleeping in his bed anyway. He would probably kill me. JW**

(11:03) Probably. SH

**(11:05) Hmm. It's kind of tempting me now. JW**

(11:07) Getting killed? By my brother? SH

**(11:09) He would probably insult me to death. JW**

**(11:14) You two are kind of alike. JW**

(11:15) We're nothing alike. SH

**(11:16) True. I've actually met him. JW**

**(11:17) I didn't mean that. JW**

**(11:18) Sorry. JW**

(11:19) Oh yes, you did. SH

**(11:20) I mean, it's true, but he's a psycho who kidnaps people. And you. You are... different. JW**

(11:26) I'm rather busy, John. I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop bothering me now. SH

**(11:28) Didn't realize I was. Won't happen again. JW**

(11:28) Good. SH

 

 


	22. July 9th 2016

**July 9 th 2016**

(02:14) John? SH

(02:30) I know you're awake. SH

(02:46) Look, what I said before, I didn't mean it. SH

(03:04) You're not bothering me. SH

(03:32) I'm sorry. SH

**(03:36) It's fine. Don't worry about it. JW**

(03:37) John. SH

**(03:38) Sherlock. JW**

(03:38) You're upset. SH

**(03:39) No. It's fine. Really. I'd like to go back to sleep. JW**

(03:40) You weren't even sleeping. SH

**(03:45) How did you know that?! JW**

(03:47) It doesn't matter. Just, forgive me? SH

(03:48) Please. SH

**(03:50) Of course I forgive you. You git. JW**

**(04:43) You are the exception. JW**

(04:50) Exception? SH

**(04:55) The exception to everything. JW**

 

You too, Sherlock thinks as he clutches the phone to his chest. You too, John.


	23. July 10th 2016

**July 10 th 2016**

**(09:42) 10 days left. It's so soon. It's like I haven't really realized that it's actually happening yet. I dunno. JW**

(09:50) I know. It's a totally normal reaction to any big change. SH

**(09:55) I really hope I won't change my mind about this. JW**

(09:59) Why? I think it would be a good thing. SH

**(10:00) Why? JW**

(10:03) Well, why wouldn't not getting yourself killed be a good thing? SH

**(10:04) I'd had served a bigger purpose, I guess. JW**

(10:05) How quaint. For Queen and Country. SH

**(10:05) I'll be a better person than my dad. That's all I want. JW**

(10:06) You're already a lot better person than your father, John. You're nothing like him. SH

**(10:07) I have bad days too. JW**

(10:07) We all do. SH

**(10:09) I hope you'll never witness mine. JW**

(10:09) What? Why? SH

**(10:10) Not going down that path, Sherlock. JW**

**(10:13) I'll have to be very drunk for that. JW**

(10:17) You don't have to tell me. SH

**(10:18) I know. JW**

**(16:37) What are you doing? How is the case going? JW**

(16:43) The killer's made a mistake. Finally! SH

**(16:46) Are you close to solving the case? JW**

(16:50) Close? Probably not. Closer? Definitely. SH

**(16:51) Will you be done before I leave? JW**

(17:02) I don't know. SH

**(17:03) Right. JW**

 

John is growing desperate. He doesn't understand why Sherlock won't see him, and it hurts. He thought that they had connected on some level but he was starting to think that maybe he'd been wrong. He spends most of his time at the Holmes estate lying on his back on his bed and occasionally eating when Mrs. Hudson brings him something. He chain smokes, hoping it will help still his itchy nerves.

It doesn't.

All he wants before he leaves is to at least get to see Sherlock, the mysterious and gorgeous boy who he has so completely lost himself to. Every effort he makes goes unnoticed. It makes John sad.

He misses his friends back at uni. They made him forget all of his troubles, and it made him sleep a little better at night. He hasn't slept in Sherlock's bed since he left the note. He is tired.

He rubs his hands across his face and throws his phone aside next to him on the bed. It is always him chasing after Sherlock like a maniac. Otherwise there is radio silence.

He rolls over on his side and closes his eyes, willing sleep to come to him.

 

John's phone flashes before he has managed to fall asleep.

(22:04) You wanted to help? SH

**(22:04) Yes. What can I do? JW**

(22:05) What do you know about roses? SH

(22:05) Give me data. SH

**(22:06) Eh, roses? They are flowers of different colour, with thorny branches. If you intend to make a bouquet they should have lukewarm water to survive longer. JW**

**(22:10) I will just continue to talk at you about roses, I guess. They exist in many colours and romantically, the different colours have different messages. The red ones mean love, and white ones mean innocense. Black roses are a symbol of death. JW**

(22:10) Good. What else? SH

**(22:15) I'm consulting Google. Rose petals are used in herbal medicine as they are rich in Vitamin C. JW**

**(22:20) 'Roses For the Dead' is a single by the band 'Funeral For a Friend', thought I doubt any of this is relevant. JW**

 (22:23) Yes well, I was hoping you'd tell me more about the meaning of roses. What they symbolise. Ancient tales. Everything. SH

**(22:25) Sherlock, are you going on a date? JW**

(22:26) What? Why would I go on a date? I'm in the middle of a case! SH

(22:27) There's a serial killer out there, and you want to talk about dating? SH

**(22:27) Oh. Right. The case. JW**

(22:28) Rose-scented bathwater. It has to mean something. SH

**(22:30) From what I can tell, roses generally symbolize happiness, love and desire. Dead people in tubs don't seem very happy. JW**

**(22:40) Hang on. I think I found something. I found a blog about gardening, but he only grows black roses. The ones that symbolize death. His pseudonym is "moriarty"  JW**

(22:42) Interesting. Tell me more. SH

**(22:45) Sherlock? JW**

**(22:47) Sherlock! JW**

(22:50) John? SH

**(22:50) Call me. Urgent. JW**

 

"John, are you alright?"

"Sherlock, it's you. On the website. The first picture you sent me."

"What?”

“There is a post about you.”

“What does it say?”

“Hang on. Let me read it.”

“Alright.”

“Uh, it says ‘get Sherlock’. That’s it.”

“Get Sherlock? What’s that supposed to mean? You said his name was Moriarty? I’ve never heard that name.”

“I don’t know, Sherlock. How did he even get this picture?”

“You’re the only one who has it beside me.”

“Sherlock, I wouldn’t” John says gravey.

“I know. Is there anything else on the website? Address? Phone number? Anything?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Interesting…”

“It’s getting serious. Please, be careful.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Sherlock.”

“Hm?”

“Promise.”

Sherlock clears his throat. "I'll try."

"Good enough, I guess" John says as he stifles a yawn.

"Go to bed, John."

"I am in bed."

“You know what I meant.”

“Mmmh.”

“Good night.”

“Night, Sherlock.”


	24. July 11th 2016

**July 11 th 2016**

**(02:42) Well, I didn’t sleep for very long. That blog is freaking me out. JW**

**(02:45) Why not someone at the Scotland Yard? Why you? JW**

(03:10) If Moriarty is our killer, he must know that I’m the only one who’s clever enough to realize that these serial suicides are not actually suicides. SH

**(03:12) How did he realize you were involved? JW**

**(03:16) How do we know it’s a he? JW**

(03:17) I don’t know. No one outside Scotland Yard was supposed to know that I’m working on the case. SH

(03:17) Except you, of course. SH

**(03:17) Do you trust me? JW**

(03:17) We don’t know that but it’s statistically more likely that it’s a man. SH

(03:25) Try to get some more sleep. I’ll be fine. SH

**(03:27) Do you trust me enough to believe it wasn’t me? I would never do this to you. JW**

(03:33) Yes, I don’t believe it was you. SH

**(03:35) Good. So it’s someone at the Yard then? JW**

**(03:36) Whose ass am I kicking? JW**

(03:39) You’re not obliged to defend me, John. You don’t have to feel like you owe me anything. SH

**(03:40) You’re my friend. It’s what friends do. JW**

(03:40) I’m your friend? SH

**(03:41) Of course you are. JW**

**(03:45) You’re my best friend, probably. I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else before. JW**

(04:00) I’ve never really had friends. SH

**(04:02) Really? JW**

(04:02) Yes, really. SH

**(04:05)Well, you’re doing fine. :) JW**

(04:07) You think so? SH

**(04:08) Definitely. JW**

**(04:10) God, I’m exhausted. I will try to get some more sleep like you said. JW**

(04:12) That’s a good idea. SH

 

**(08:53) Any progress on the case? JW**

(08.57) Not much. No one at Scotland Yard has ever heard of this Moriarty before. No new victims, nothing. At least, they finally believe me. SH

(09:00) Why would he kill 3 women, one man, and then suddenly just stop? SH

**(09:02) And then reach out to you… I don’t understand either. JW**

(09:10) John. 4. Number four. 4 victims. What do you know about number four and roses? Is there any connection? Do some research. SH

**(09:15) Well, on the fourth day God (allegedly) created the sun, the moon and the stars. Day and night were created. JW**

**(09:33) There is a phobia for the number 4 called “tetraphobia.” It’s apparently common in East Asia where four is pronounced the same as the word for “death” (shi). JW**

**(09:35) Holy shit, Sherlock. Listen to this. Apparently, when visiting, never give a present made up of four pieces, for example flowers. JW**

(09:36) Why not four? SH

**(09:37) It’s considered an insult in Asia. JW**

(09:37) We’re not in Asia, John. SH

**(09:39) Could Moriarty be? What about the victims? JW**

(09:40) Maybe. They’re looking into it now that they’ve realized that these deaths are very clearly linked. SH

**(09:42) I hope it will be solved soon. JW**

**(09:45) When I’m in training I won’t be able to help. What if something happens while I’m gone? JW**

(09:51) I know. I’ll be fine, I guess. SH

(09:51) You don’t have to go. SH

(09:51) If you don’t want to, that is. SH

(09:52) The offer still stands. SH

**(09:53) I do, Sherlock. You know I do. JW**

(09:56) Yes, I know. I’m sure you’ll do fine. SH

**(09:59) Yeah. JW**

(10:00) You’re not sleeping in my bed anymore. Why? SH

(10:01) Obviously you don’t have to, but I thought you liked it. SH

**(10:03) How? JW**

**(10:04) How did you know? JW**

(10:05) Well, Mrs Hudson changes the bed linens every third day—she’s irritatingly pedantic. The bed doesn’t smell like you anymore. SH

**(10:06) I… I don’t know. JW**

**(10:07) I do like it. I just, I don’t know, Sherlock. JW**

(10:08) Not much brainwork needed to deduce that, but why, why would you stop doing it if you enjoyed it so much? I have absolutely no idea, but I’m pretty sure you do. SH

**(10:09) I’m not having this conversation with you, Sherlock. Leave it. JW**

(10:09) Was it something I did? If it’s the thumbs on my desk, I can clean them up. It’s the eyeballs, isn’t it? SH

**(10:12) No, Sherlock. That’s all fine. You haven’t done anything. JW**

(10:13) Oh, alright then. SH

(10:16) Sorry. SH

(10:17) For asking. SH

**(10:20) No, it’s fine. I can move back. JW**

(10:20) No, you don’t have to. You decide. SH

**(10:25) Alright. I will then, I guess. JW**

(10:25) Good. SH

(10:25) I mean good if you’ll sleep better. SH

**(10:27) Did you sleep in it? JW**

**(10:28) Since she changed she sheets, I mean. JW**

(10:32) Just a few hours. She’ll change them again today if you want to, just ask her. SH

**(10:34) No. No, leave them. JW**

(10:35) Alright. SH

**(10:40) When did you sleep at home? JW**

(10:41) Yesterday. Well, technically today since it was past midnight. SH

**(10:45) You… texted me from your bed? JW**

(10:46) Of course not. You were already asleep when I came home. SH

**(10:47) Sherlock, I can tell when you’re lying. JW**

(10:47) I’m not lying. SH

**(10:48) Sherlock. JW**

(10:50) Yes, John? SH

**(10:53) Fine. Be stubborn. JW**

(10:53) I’m not stubborn! SH

**(10:54) Yes, you are. You are the most stubborn person I know. JW**

(10:54) Then you clearly don’t know many people. SH

**(10:55) Sherlock. JW**

**(10:59) You frustrating arse. JW**

(11:00) Lovely choice of words, John. SH

(11:00) But I’ve been called worse. SH

**(11:03) I say it with love. JW**

**(11:04) Wait, you’ve been called what? JW**

(11:05) Doesn’t matter. SH

**(11:06) It matters to me. JW**

(11:08) People tend to be surprisingly creative when calling me names. Fascinating, really. SH

**(11:10) Why would anyone want to call you anything? Aside from arse, of course. JW**

(11:11) Is it really a surprise to you that people don’t like me? SH

**(11:13) Yes. JW**

(11:14) It wouldn’t be if you had met me in person. SH

**(11:15) Sherlock. Why do you say that? JW**

**(11:16) It’s not true. JW**

(11:17) Oh, it’s true, John. It is very true. SH

**(11:18) No, Sherlock. It’s not. JW**

**(11:19) I don’t care if you’re impatient or rude. You’re great. JW**

**(11:20) You are you. JW**

(11:21) John, you don’t really have to try to make me feel better. I’m fine. I’m honoured you think so highly of me, but really, I’m fine. SH

**(11:25) Oh, Sherlock. JW**

 

**[15:27] Hey Harry. How are you? I’m such a shitty brother. Haven’t checked on you in a while. JW**

[15:46] Hello, brother. I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Dad called. H

**[15:47] Oh God, are you ok? JW**

[15:55] Yeah, I’m fine. The udual shit, ya know? H

**[15:58] Sure do. How are you and Anna? Still together? :) JW**

[16:02] She left me. H

**[16:10] Ah shit. I’m so sorry. Do you need me to come over? JW**

[16:34] She fucjing left me, John. Said it wadn’t me, but I know it ain’t true. Found someor else. It’s Lisa, I’m suwr of it. I fuxking hate that bitch. H

**[16:36] Are you drunk? JW**

[16:40] No. H

[16:42] Hell, John, what does it matrer? H 

**[16:46] I’m coming over. JW**

**[16:59] At least stop saying you’re fine when you’re not. JW**

[17:16] Yeah, ya know what? I’m not fine. Dad told me you dropped outta school. He’s angry. He’s fucking furioius, John. And u didn’t even ssk me? Is thar how much you carw? Fuck you. H

**[17:18] Harry, I did it for you. JW**

**[17:20] I… there is this guy. Dad would have killed us both if he found out. JW**

**[17:26] Harry. I gave it all up for you. I’m starting military training and I’m fucking scared as hell. JW**

[17:27] Shit. You wgat? You can’t do that, you’ll get killed. Then I’ve nobody. H

**[17:28] I have to. JW**

[17:30] What guy? H

**[17:30] Sherlock. His name is Sherlock. JW**

**[17:32] Dad’s gonna fucking kill me. JW**

[17:34] Wht the fuck kinda namr is fhat? H

**[17:36] I don’t fucking know, but he’s gorgeous and mysterious. JW**

[17:38] Wait a sec, he’s yo bf? H

**[17:39] No, no. God no, I haven’t even fucking met him. JW**

**[17:40] fucking shit harry. We are so fucked up. Bottoms up, right? JW**

[17:40] You haveb’t met your boy fridn? That shit’s fucked up. H

**[17:41] Hes not my boyfriend. JW**

**[17:42] But jesus do I want to snog him senseless. Yes, god Yes I do. JW**

[17:42] Fuck, John. What the hell ya wairif for? H

**[17:45] Nothing. I’ve gt nothing to wait for. He’s not into thay kinda thing. JW**

**[17:46] Since when was this about me anyway. Anna left u, Harry, I’m so sorry I’m such an ass. JW**

[17:51] He’s no gay? Shit, am sorry, brother. And no, dobn’t woery, she ain’t worth my tears. H

**[17:52] pretty sure he’s ace. JW**

[17:55] Aw, fuck. Sry. H

**[17:55] Can I please stay with you tonight? I’ll take a cab. JW**

[17:59] Alright, bring some beer. H

**[18:01] Only got Vodka. Will that do? JW**

[18:02] Eveb better. H

**[18:05] See u in 40 min. JW**

 

**(18:10) Sherlysherllllll, I won’t be in tonight in case u come home. JW**

(18:23) Sherl…what? Where are you going? SH

**(18:25) M’sister’s. JW**

(18:26) John? Is everything alright? SH

**(18:27) Yeah yeah sfine, just haven’t seen her in a while. JW**

(18:27) You’re drunk. SH

**(18:29) Nope! JW**

(18:30) Don’t lie to me. You know it doesn’t work. SH

**(18:32) I’m not seunk. JW**

**(18:35) Drunk. JW**

(18:36) John. SH

**(18:38) Sheeeeeeeerlock. JW**

 

[18:39] Sherlock Holmes will be the death of me, Harry. JW

 

(18:40) Oh, dear lord. Text me if you get into trouble. SH

**(18:43) Ok JW**

 

[18:40] Forget him. You won’t ve troubne finding someone elsr. Soon ere? H

**[18:43] Soon. JW**

 


	25. July 12th 2016

**July 12 th 2016**

**(02:32) Hey! JW**

(02:32) Everything alright? SH

**(02:33) Yeah, I'm good. What are you doing? ;) JW**

(02:34) Thinking. SH

**(02:35) What are you thinking about? ;) JW**

 (02:35) The case. Obviously. SH

**(02:36) Ah ye, the case. ;) JW**

(02:37) Why are you using so many of those... winking emoticons? SH

**(02:39) Got something in my eye. Why don't ya take a good look?;) JW**

(02:41) What?! SH

**(02:43) Don't u want to Sherlock? ;) JW**

(02:45) You don't seem like yourself. How much have you drunk? SH

**(02:47) Nothing. I just missed talking to u. JW**

(02:47) I missed it, too. SH

(02:55) I mean it's useful to me. Talking to you. You stimulate the genius in me. SH

(02:59) John? SH

**(03:20) That was my sister. I AM going to kill her. JW**

(03:20) Oh. SH

(03:21) So you didn't miss talking to me. SH

(03:21) Of course, I should have known it wasn't you. SH

(03:21) Just ignore what I said. SH

**(03:25) It was still true. JW**

(03:27) Which part of it? You missing me or you having something in your eye? Might want to have a licensed doctor take a look, I'm hardly qualified. SH

**(03:29) You're an idiot. JW**

**(03:30) That I miss talking to you, of course. JW**

(03:31) Of course. SH

**(03:32) I mean it. JW**

(03:32) I believe you. SH

John sighs and shoots daggers at his sister, then he presses Call.

"John?"

"You don't believe me."

"What? Yes, I do. I believe you."

"Sherlock."

"I said I believe you!"

"I can tell you don't. Alright, so I might be a little drunk. But I do miss you when you're not around."

"Yeah, I can hear that," Sherlock chuckles and then pauses for a moment, "I--I, um, miss you too."

"Shut the fuck up Harry, or I WILL smother you in your sleep" John shouts away from the phone. "Sorry 'bout that. Mmmm, if you mean that, why are you avoiding me all the time? John slurs. “’S not like I*m going to stab you.”

Sherlock chuckles nervously. "Yes well, I'd like to see you try... John, I'm not avoiding you. I'm just busy with the case, and--"

"And?"

"I don't know."

"I wish you'd just tell me why we can't see each other. Too much to ask I guess. I’m not nearly drunk enough for this. Hang on, Sherlock.”

John shuffles from the phone and returns with a glass in his hand.

"I think you've drunk enough now, John. You should go to sleep."

"You aren't here to stop me." John downs the entire drink in one go.

"No, you're right. I'm not. And you wouldn't listen to me even if I were there."

"That's right. And why is that?"

"Why you wouldn't listen to me? You tell me."

"Because you, Sherlock Holmes, are a pain in the ass."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Mmmmmmm. Do you ever get drunk?"

“No.”

"You are weird."

Vague rustling in the background indicates someone is moving around, and Sherlock can only hear John protest before the call is disconnected.

 

**(03:40) John will suffer from alcohol poisoning if I don't stop this. Was nice talking to you earlier, Sherlock Holmes. Harry**

(03:40) Are you sure he'll be alright? SH

**(03:41) I'm sure. H**

(03:42) Alright. Just make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit. SH

**(03:45) Hah, I'm not a rookie. H**

(03:45) Thank you, Harry. SH

 

(11:25) How are you feeling? SH

**(11:35) Never better. JW**

(11:35) I thought so. SH

**(11:36) Urgh. JW**

(11:37) You have only yourself to blame. SH

**(11:38) I blame Harry. JW**

(11:39) And why's that? I doubt she poured the alcohol down your throat. SH

**(11:42) We talked. JW**

(11:42) About what? SH

**(11:45) Things. JW**

(11:48) Oh, please. Would you care to elaborate? SH

**(11:50) Just things, Sherlock. Relationship things. JW**

**(11:51) Hardly anything you're interested in. JW**

(11:52) I see. SH

**(11:51) Hardly anything you're interested in. JW**

(11:53) Why would I ask if I wasn't interested? SH

**(11:54) I don't know. JW**

**(11:56) Harry was dumped. JW**

(12:00) Oh. Is she alright? SH

**(12:02) She is probably in an equally dreadful state as myself right now. JW**

(12:03) I don't doubt it. SH

**(12:04) I'm heading back soon. JW**

(12:07) Mrs Hudson will be waiting for you. SH

**(12:08) She will? Why? JW**

(12:10) She was worried where you'd gone yesterday. She called me. SH

**(12:11) Seriously? JW**

(12:11) Yes, she thought my brother was behind your disappearance. I wonder where she got that idea from. SH

**(12:12) Not this time. It was my own doing. JW**

(12:12) Clearly. SH

**(12:15) I'd probably feel better if it was your brother. JW**

(12:16) Probably. Forcing someone to drink alcohol isn't exactly his style. SH

**(12:17) What is his style? JW**

(12:17) Eating cake and not getting his hands dirty. SH

**(17:19) Sounds delicious. JW**

**(17:20) The cake, I mean. Not your brother. He's not really my type. JW**

(17:21) Oh yes, he would know. SH

(17:24) What's your type? SH

(17:24) Blonde and fit, like Sannah, I presume. SH

**(17:25) No. JW**

**(17:27) I don't really have a type. I fall for a person-- not an appearance. JW**

(17:29) And what is it that makes you fall for someone? SH

**(17:30) Hard to define. JW**

**(17:31) It just happens, sometimes. JW**

(17:34) I see. SH

**(17:35) What about you? JW**

(17:36) What about me? SH

**(17:38) What's your type? JW**

(17:39) Oh. I don't know. I guess I don't have one, either. SH

**(17:40) Well, have you ever felt something for someone? JW**

(17:46) Relationships are really not my area. SH

**(17:47) That doesn't really answer the question. JW**

(17:50) Sentiment is a chemical defect. I try to keep myself distant. SH

**(17:55) Right. JW**

**(18:00) I understand. JW**

(18:01) Do you? SH

**(18:02) Perfectly. JW**

**[18:05] Harry? JW**

[18:09] I feel like shit. H

**[18:10] I don't doubt it. Let's do it again sometime? Anyway, Sherlock he-- he just sent me something. JW**

[18:11] Sure, brother. Well, what did he send? H

**[18:12] "Sentiment is a chemical defect. I try to keep myself distant." I'm so fucked. JW**

**[18:14] What the fuck do I do? What. The. Fuck. Do. I. Do? JW**

[18:14] Well, he might try, but he sure as hell cares about you. Did you read his texts from last night. Worried you'd choke on your own sick. I bet he's got a big fat crush on you, but he's just too much of a wimp to admit it. H

**[18:16] I'm losing my mind. JW**

[18:18] You gotta meet him. Face 2 face. H

**[18:20] No shit. JW**


	26. July 13th 2016

**July 13 th 2016**

(04:32) John, they've found a link between the victims. They've all been to Germany in the last month, and they all visited the same casino there. Hardly a coincidence. Now, what did they all do there? I doubt they went there to gamble. They didn't even know how to play poker! There's something else. An organisation. And the casino was their secret meeting-place. But why did they have to die? SH

(04:32) Oh, this is getting fun! SH

**(04:35) You're the genius. You'll figure it out. JW**

(04:36) No, I need you. Give me some data. Tell me everything you can find out about Casino Cosmo. SH

**(04:37) Sherlock. I'm sleeping. Don't you have a computer? JW**

(04:38) I need to take care of a couple of things. SH          

**(04:40) Alright. Fine. JW**

(04:41) Excellent! SH

**(04:55) Nothing. I find nothing. It's like the casino doesn't exist. JW**

**(05:00) I found their official website, but it's just crashing. JW**

**(05:12) Somebody really doesn't want you to poke around in their business. JW**

 

**(06:02) Sherlock? JW**

(06:05) Yeah, I'm here. Did you find anything, or does the website just keep crashing? SH

**(06:06) Your picture. It's the only thing on the website now. JW**

(06:06) What? SH

**(06:07) The old website is gone. Someone's hacking it. JW**

(06:08) Moriarty. SH

**(06:09) So we're dealing with a murderous hacker. Great. JW**

**(06:15) If that's all I'm gonna go back to sleep. JW**

(06:17) Yes, I'll be fine. SH

**(06:20) Good. JW**

(06:28) John? SH

**(06:30) Hmm? JW**

(06:30) Thank you. SH

**(06:31) No prob. JW**

John rolls onto his side in Sherlock's bed, desperately fighting the sadness that makes his chest clench. Sherlock's smell is neither soothing nor doing anything to cheer his dark mood. There is only one person John has actually managed to fall head-over-heels for, and he can never be his.

 


	27. July 14th 2016

**July 14 th 2016**

_[14:23] Sherlock, I warn you. There will be consequences. MH_

[14:27] Stay out of this, Mycroft. SH

_[14:28] It is my duty as your brother. You know how this goes. I will find who you bought from, and you will not be able to buy from them again. MH_

[14:29] It's not your duty. It's in fact none of your business. I'll always find a new one. You're wasting your oh-so-precious time. Shouldn't you be eating your afternoon cake? SH

_[14:32] Sherlock. It is my duty to stop you from overdosing in some dark alley. Is this John's doing? I will destroy him. MH_

[14:35] This has nothing to do with John. I swear, if you lay so much as the tip of your finger on him, you'll wish you'd never been born. SH

_[14:36] I will not tolerate this behaviour. MH_

[14:37] Oh, I don't care, dear brother. You can't stop me. SH

_[14:40] I will take John. MH_

[14:40] No. You have no right. Don't you dare drag him into this. This is between you and me. SH

_[14:42] Sherlock. You will never win. MH_

_[14:45] Face the consequences, or John will. MH_

[14:47] I said stay out of this. I will never forgive you if you don't. SH

_[14:50] This is not negotiable. You will go to rehabilitation. MH_

[14:51] Oh, will I? SH

_[14:55] You will. Or I'm sending John away. MH_

[14:56] I'd like to see you try. SH

_[14:57] If mother was still here she would never forgive you. MH_

_[15:00] I will inform John of your habits of injecting drugs into your veins. MH_

[15:03] Me? She would never forgive me? Don't you dare, Mycroft. SH

[15:03] John won't believe you. SH

_[15:04] Let's find out, shall we? MH_

**(16:43) Please, tell me it isn't true, Sherlock. JW**

 

[16:44] I will kill you, Mycroft. I will. SH

 

(16:44) What are you talking about? SH

_[16:45] Be my guest. MH_

 

**(16:46) You bloody well know what I'm talking about. JW**

(16:47) I don't, I'm afraid. SH

**(16:50) I warn you, Sherlock. JW**

**(16:51) At least have the fucking decency to deny it. JW**

(16:51) It'd help immensely if I knew what I am supposed to deny. SH

**(16:54) Mycroft is sending a car over to fetch me, he said. JW**

(16:55) What? Why? Are you going to let them take you? SH

**(16:57) You know what? Why the fuck not? At least he's telling me the truth. I'm not stupid. JW**

 

[16:58] Thank you for making the only person that has ever tolerated me hate me. I hope you're pleased with yourself. Maybe celebrate with some cake while you're still alive? SH

_[16:59] Don't say I didn't warn you. MH_

 

(16:58) You can't trust him, John. You know you can't. He's trying to manipulate you. SH

**(17:00) So you're telling me that he was lying when he said you only talk to me because "you're bored, and don't actually care"? JW**

(17:00) What? He said that to you? SH

**(17:02) Yes. Apparently you are unable to care about anything but yourself. JW**

(17:02) And you believe it? You believe him? SH

**(17:04) Am I ever going to see you? JW**

**(17:05) One moment you act like you care, and then the next you don't... JW**

(17:07) You don't understand, John. SH

**(17:08) True. JW**

(17:09) Don't let my brother get to you. Please. SH

**(17:10) You're so confusing. You know that, right? JW**

(17:12) Yes, I know. SH

(17:13) Will you stay? SH

**(17:14) Alright. Fine. JW**

(17:16) I'm glad. SH

**(17:17) Yeah. JW**

 

John sighs deeply. He doesn't really know what to do with all the feelings that are currently bottled up inside him, and so he drinks. He calls for a taxi and waits in the warm summer evening, a cigarette firmly placed between his fingers.

The taxi arrives and John puts his cigarette out with the boot of his shoe. He shoves his phone into his jacket pocket and enters the taxi, telling the driver to take him to London.

He needs to breathe the London air and be around normal people for a while. The Holmes estate is only a few minutes out of town, yet it feels like a different timezone. Hell, a different universe.

 

He meets a woman that evening; she is nice, beautiful and intelligent. Not in a Sherlock-way intelligent, but there is definitely something to her that catches his attention. He finds himself fascinated as he is sipping on his beer - the bartender was sloppy with checking IDs - opposite her in the bar, and Sherlock is fading to a distant buzz in the background. It's a nice change, considering he has been all that's on John's mind lately. He doesn't even feel his phone vibrating in his back pocket.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	28. July 15th 2016

**July 15 th 2016**

(00:32) John, all of the victims belonged to a secret criminal organisation called Order of Roses. I believe that's why the bathwater was rose-scented. It was a reference to the name. SH

**(00:45) Busy, will answer later. JW**

(00:48) Where are you? What can possibly be more important than this? SH

**(01:23) I have company. Txt you later. JW**

(01:26) What company? John, this is important! SH

(01:40) John? SH

 

**(04:11) Hey, im back. Great to hwar ur making progress with the case. JW**

(04:19) Where the hell have you been? SH

**(04:25) London. JW**

(04:26) What was so important you couldn't text me? SH

**(04:29) I had company, bit rudr to text then don't you think? JW**

(04:30) Don't you realise this case requires your full attention. With whom were you? SH

**(04:35) Some1 named Mary. And no, i wasnt aware I was doing more than googling :) JW**

(04:43) Well, I hope you two had a wonderful time. SH

**(04:45) We did! Ithjnk you'd like her. JW**

(04:47) Highly unlikely. SH                  

 

**(12:32) So, this organization. It's illegal, I presume? Do you know what they do? JW**

(12:48) I thought you were busy. SH

**(12:50) I'm not anymore. JW**

(12:52) And to answer your question: no, I don't. SH

**(12:54) But it is tied to Moriarty. JW**

(12:56) Yes. SH

 

Hunched over his microscope, Sherlock is sitting in Bart’s lab, looking at one of the bathwater samples, trying to find anything that could bring him closer to Moriarty, but he finds nothing. The case seems impossible to solve, and he’s frustrated, and tired, and it doesn’t help at all that he can’t get John Watson out of his mind. John is messing with his thoughts, invading his mind palace, and stealing his attention away from what matters the most. All that matters to him—all that should matter to him—is the work, and now he’s pining for John like a hormone-riddled teenager, pining for a boy who will never be interested in him, not in the way Sherlock wants him to.

Sherlock knows he needs to focus. He needs to solve the case, and forget the boy. John has already found someone else, anyway, Sherlock thinks bitterly as he leans back away from the microscope, there’s no use wasting his time wallowing in it. He knows what he needs to do.

He walks over to the door and locks it before picking up his bag from the floor. He rummages through it, and with shaking fingers pulls out a small flat box. Sherlock slides down the door until he’s sitting on the floor, and for a brief moment he closes his eyes. He’s not proud of what he’s going to do, but he needs it. Drugs will calm his overwhelmed mind and help him to reach a solution; they will help him to concentrate on the work, and make him forget the boy for a while.

Sherlock rolls up his sleeve, ties a tourniquet around his arm, and picks up a syringe from the box and readies it. He stares at the needle tip, taking a deep breath through his nostrils, and plunges it into his forearm.  

He feels warm as the drug enters his bloodstream, flowing through his veins, heat spreading through his body, and his eyes flutter closed.

 

_ [14:32] Hi, John. I had a good time last night and I thought maybe we could grab some dinner together. Mary _

[14:36] Mary! I had a great time too. Did I really sing Bohemian Rhapsody in front of everyone? Dinner sounds good. JW

_ [14:38] Haha, yes, you did! You impressed me with your karaoke skills ;) Mary _

[14:40] Oh, dear god. I'm not sure about this dinner thing anymore then. Don't think I can look you in the eyes anymore. JW

_ [14:41] Don't be silly, John! You were sweet. Mary _

[14:45] I've been told I'm small and angry all the time. :D JW

_ [14:47] Well, I think they are wrong about you. You can be pretty charming, too :) Mary _

[14:50] So I'm like Gimli in Lord of the Rings, basically? JW

[14:51] Small and angry, yet charming. JW

_ [14:55] Haha, you're too funny! Mary _

[14:57] I'm only funny when I'm not sober. What do you say to 6 pm? JW

_ [15:00] 6 pm sounds great :) Mary _

 

(17:12) Consulting criminal. SH

**(17:13) You're consulting a criminal? What the hell, Sherlock? JW**

(17:16) Moriarty. SH

**(17:17) Moriarty is consulting a criminal? JW**

(17:18) Yes, that's what I said. A consulting criminal. SH

(17:18) They are his minions. SH

**(17:19) Who is he consulting? You're not making a lot of sense, Sherlock. JW**

(17:20) Oh, please. Do keep up, John! What is it that you don't understand? Criminals. People who want to commit crimes. He's a spider. A spider at the center of a criminal web. SH

**(17:22) Oh, so HE is the consulting criminal. JW**

**(17:25) Did you find out anything else? JW**

(17:26) Yes, exactly like I said. SH

**(17:28) Tell me all about it later, okay? JW**

(17:29) No, this can't wait. I can solve it. I can. I can do this. SH

**(17:30) I believe you. JW**

**(17:31) Not much I can do though anyway, right? JW**

(17:33) I think better when I talk with you. SH

**(17:35) Well, have a go at my inbox and I'll read it in a while. JW**

(17:36) What? Where are you? I need you now. SH

**(17:38) I'm meeting Mary at 6pm. I probably won't be very long. JW**

(17:44) Oh. I see. SH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes meet the writers 2.0! This is what it is REALLY like when we write.
> 
> [Picture 1](http://i.imgur.com/l6mfwD5.png)   
>  [Picture 2](http://i.imgur.com/VYgvVNS.jpg)   
>  [Picture 3](http://i.imgur.com/EqyzFbo.png)


	29. July 16th 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! 
> 
> This chapter is very dark. Read at your own risk.

**July 16 th 2016**

**(00:01) Back nw. Can I help YoU? JW**

(00:03) I thought you said you wouldn't be long. SH

**(00:05) Miscalalaculation on my patrt. JW**

(00:07) And you're drunk. Again. SH

**(00:10) My life as i Know It is ending in 4 days. Lwet me be drunk. JW**

(00:13) Yes, I'll let you. In fact, you can do whatever you like. I'm sure dating some girl you happened to meet at a bar is much more important than the case. Sorry for bothering you. SH

**(00:15) Woah wooaohhh, slow down there for a moment. WE are NOT dating. JW**

**(00:23) I'm just tired of beiang loacked up alone. Iw ont' be dating i n a  looong time. JW**

(00:25) Oh, so you're just hanging out? Having some fun? I don't know if it has occurred to you that there's some madman out there who has already killed four people and is now trying to "get me". But oh no, don't worry about it, just go out and have some fun with your new friend. SH

**(00:28) Why is eerywthing always m yfault? JW**

**(00:45) Harry being cgay? My fault!! My mother wdying of canwcer? Yep, thawt was my fault as well. He beat mw bloody, i was Hospitalized for a week. Harry faliign schoo? Yeah, that was my fault. You know,when I tried to kill mySElf last year. Wanna knowq qhat dad say? He laughed at me and waisd That I wasn't eveb giid wnough to do that. HE lauGHED SHERlock.   SO I guss why the fuck not . Tihis is all my fault too. If blaming John Fucking Useless Watson makes you feel better, Go ahead. JW**

(00:55) No. No, it's not your fault. None of those things were your fault. And this isn't your fault, either. It's my fault for dragging you into this. You deserve better. You deserve better than me. It's probably for the better if we don't talk anymore. I hope you'll be happy. You deserve that. SH

**(01:13) Sherlwock, I fuakcin need you. Dont you dare walk out on me too. JW**

**(01:15) DOn't you ucking dare. JW**

(01:17) John, you don't need me. I'll just end up disappointing you again and again. I can't be the person you want me to be. SH

**(01:20) You arw so stupid. JW**

(01:22) You know I'm right. SH

**(01:25) You Have no idea. JW**

(01:27) Of what? SH

**(01:34) Everything. JW**

(01:36) Care to explain? SH

**(01:40) Over my dead body. JW**

**(01:55) I stole it before i left. JW**

(02:01) Stole what? SH

**(02:31) His gun. JW**

(02:35) What are you talking about? SH

**(02:36) Nohthing. JW**

(02:37) Where is it now? SH

**(02:40) in my bag. JW**

(02:42) John, where are you? SH

**(02:42) Your room. JW**

(02:42) Stay away from the gun. SH¨

**(02:46) Will you stay? JW**

(02:47) Yes. Just stay away from the gun. SH

**(02:50) If anything Iwas gonna shoot your jar of eyeballs. JW**

(02:51) Promise me you won't touch the gun. SH

**(02:53) Okay. JW**

(02:53) Thank you. SH

 

**(11:12) Sherlock? JW**

(11:14) Yes? SH

**(11:16) I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have told you all that, you don't need to know it. Can we just forget about it? JW**

**(11:20) And if you really want to stop texting, it's fine. I will move out for the last few days and you won't hear from me again. JW**

(11:22) John, look, I just want to know that you're alright. It doesn't change anything, you don't need to leave. SH

(11:23) Your father's an arsehole, and you should know that he's wrong. He's wrong about you. SH

(11:25) And you're not useless. You've been very useful to me, my conductor of light. SH

**(11:26) Your... what? JW**

(11:28) You stimulate my mind. You make me think better. SH

(11:28) You make me better. SH

**(11:30) I... had no idea. JW**

(11:41) John, there's one thing. I don't want you to have that gun. SH

**(11:45) I'm keeping it, Sherlock. JW**

(11:47) It's too dangerous. SH

**(11:50) I like danger. JW**

(11:52) I know. But it's really not that fun when you end up killing yourself. SH

**(11:56) Then don't leave. JW**

(12:00) I can't promise you that nothing will ever happen to me. SH

**(12:05) I know. JW**

**(12:07) You are equally addicted to trouble. JW**

(12:11) John, I'm sorry, but I can't let you have it. SH

**(12:15) Sherlock, don't you dare. JW**

 

Sherlock knows that John will be angry. Hell, John will probably never forgive him, but he’s willing to take the risk. If John is going to hate him, Sherlock can live with that. It will hurt and it will metaphorically break his heart, but at least he won’t need to bear John’s death on his conscience.

He sighs and dials his brother’s number.

"Hello, brother dear," Sherlock says sarcastically, "how are you?"

"Ah, little brother" Mycroft replies. "May I inquire, how is sentiment working for you?"

"How many pounds have you gained since we last met? Seven, I bet."

"Lost two, actually" Mycroft replies dismissively before he continues. "What do you want, Sherlock?"

"John has a gun. I need you to confiscate it."

"Oh, that old thing? It is resting safely with a 'Greg Lestrade' of Scotland Yard. Did you really think I would allow him to have a gun in our home? I confiscated it upon his arrival. The one he has is a fake." Mycroft pauses for a moment. "Sentiment really HAS made you slow."

"You had no right to do that."

"Please do remember which one of the two of us is the most successful."

"Oh, please. You're lonely and miserable. I wouldn't consider that a success."

"Oh, Sherlock. How little you know."

"I assure you I know more than you could imagine."

Mycroft chuckles lightly over the phone line. "What do you know about anything, aside from your petty murders? Speaking of which, the reagent of Morocco is on the other line. Something about 'national importance', I believe. Bye, brother dear."

Mycroft disconnects the call.

Sherlock tosses the phone onto the table and buries his head into his hands. His skin is itching, as if small insects are crawling under it, trying to eat their way out to the surface, and he can feel the exhaustion wearing him down, fogging his mind. He hates Mycroft. Sherlock hates his condescending words, his ability to make him feel inferior, to make him feel like a child. His brother’s stinging words echo in his head, playing over and again in his mind.

Petty murders. Sentiment has made you slow.

Sherlock wants to scream. The itching is growing stronger, spreading to his entire body. He knows what he needs. He’s going to solve the case and show his idiotic brother that he’s wrong.

He grabs his coat and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

He needs a fix.

 

**(17:32) You ok? JW**

(17:56) Yeah. SH

**(17:59) Alright, good. Just checking. JW**

But he isn’t okay. He is far from okay.

“Are you texting him right now?”

He can feel Mary’s stare on his face as he holds his gaze down, waiting for him to answer, but Sherlock can’t bring himself to speak, his mouth impossibly dry, his thoughts spinning and tumbling in disarray. Why has Mary, John’s date Mary, John’s possible future—if not current already— girlfriend Mary, come to meet him? How did she find him? What does she want from him?

“I warn you, you better stop texting him, you junkie. Do you understand? Don’t contact John Watson again.”

Sherlock still doesn’t answer.

“Unless, of course, you want him to end up dead in a bathtub. Are we clear?”

His head shoots up, “What did you say?” His voice is hoarse, thin.

“Moriarty sends his regards. He was wrong about you, you know? You are just a useless addict. There’s nothing extraordinary in that.” She crumples her nose in disgust, shooting one last glare at Sherlock, and exits the room.

“Wait!” Sherlock shouts, but he can already hear her footsteps fading in the distance, and he’s too tired to get up, too tired to force his legs to move, the drug still in his system, and suddenly he feels afraid, completely and utterly terrified.

John Watson is in danger, and it is all his fault.

 

(18:15) John, have you talked with Mary? Are you still in contact with her? SH

**(18:20) Not lately, no. Why? Did something happen? JW**

(18:21) You can't trust her. SH

**(18:25) Why not? JW**

(18:26) She's not who she says she is. Please, just don't see her anymore. SH

**(18:29) Sherlock. You can't just tell me not to see someone without explaining. JW**

(18:30) She's dangerous. I'm sorry, John. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry. SH

**(18:35) She's dangerous?! Sherlock, I've only met her twice and she was really nice. JW**

(18:37) She's not nice! You are just blinded by her looks. John, you have to trust me. SH

**(18:40) What do you mean, she's not nice? Sherlock, did you meet her? JW**

(18:41) Yes. You're in danger. I'm sorry. I will fix this, I promise. SH

**(18:42) I'm in danger? What the hell is going on, Sherlock? Where are you? JW**

(18:45) It doesn't matter where I am. Just stay inside and don't leave the house. SH

**(18:46) It matters, Sherlock! JW**

(18:49) You'll be safe there. My brother has men guarding the house. SH

**(18:50) Sherlock bloody Holmes. You tell me right now where you are. JW**

(18:52) I can't. SH

**(18:53) Sherlock. JW**

(18:56) Just let me fix this. SH

**(18:58) Fix what?! That I met someone who seems to appreciate me? JW**

(18:59) She doesn't appreciate you! SH

**(19:00) You don't think another human being could appreciate me? Thanks, Sherlock. JW**

**(19:05) Can you at least tell me what the hell is going on? JW**

(19:10) That's not what I said. I said, Mary doesn't appreciate you. She's just trying to get to me through you. You have to trust me. SH

**(19:12) That's insane. JW**

(19:13) Mary knows Moriarty. She works for him. SH

**(19:15) Are you serious? JW**

**(19:16) Why didn't you just bloody say so in the first place? JW**

(19:16) I'm serious. SH

**(19:17) Holy hell. JW**

(19:18) They want me to stop texting you. SH

John stares down at his cellphone, a lump forming in his throat. This is it for them.

**(19:20) And will you? JW**

(19:24) They threatened to kill you if I don't. SH

(19:24) I can't let that happen. SH

**(19:25) Sherlock. I don't care. Please. JW**

(19:32) I'm sorry, John. SH

 

John contemplates texting Sherlock that he hates him, but he knows that it's not true. Instead, he throws his phone onto the floor hard and lets the silent tears well over his eyes and slowly fall down his face.

He clenches his chest as he lets out a quiet sob, slumping down to sit in Sherlock's room, his back resting against the bedroom door. John lifts his knees up to his chest and rests his head on them, rocking himself back and forth. All the things that have happened to him fade to nothing in comparison to this gaping hole in his chest.

He picks up his phone again; the screen has broken and cracked from the force of the landing. Through the tears he manages to type a reply.

**(19:34) Ok. JW**

 


	30. July 17th 2016

**July 17 th 2016**

John wakes up in Sherlock’s bed, and for a short moment he is blissfully unaware of the events that took place the previous night. He stretches out like a clumsy cat and reaches out his phone which is lying on top of the night stand. His fingers run across the shattered glass, and he remembers everything. He is on his own again.

He sits up quickly, suddenly very eager to get out of Sherlock’s room and out of his life. Nausea hits him like a wave and he has to focus to not throw up. He throws on his clothes, grabs his charger and his phone and makes it upstairs to his own bedroom. There he packs down all his belongings and throws the bag over his shoulder. He is out of the Holmes’ Estate in less than ten minutes.

The early morning summer sun warms his neck as he wanders along the country road with something akin to determination. He isn’t sure where he’s going, exactly, but he knows that he needs to get as far away from Sherlock as possible. His phone feels heavy in the pocket of his jeans.

He hails a cab that happens to pass him by and tells the driver Harry’s address. She really is all he has left, now.

***

Harry opens the door with a wide smile which quickly fades when her eyes dart over John. There are dark circles underneath his eyes, and they are red and swollen. His knuckles are white from clenching onto his training bag and there is tension in his jaw that wasn’t there before. Harry quickly ushers him inside and closes the door behind him. She doesn’t dare ask and he really doesn’t feel like talking.

“Would you like a drink?” she asks.

He nods.

***

[15:16] Where is he? SH

_[15:18] Who? MH_

[15:19] You know exactly who. John Watson. SH

_[15:22] Last known location of John Watson was at his sister's apartment at 09:23. MH_

[15:23] Where is he now? SH

_[15:25] Nobody has been seen entering or leaving the apartment. The logical assumption would be that he is still there. MH_

[15:26] Is he safe? SH

_[15:28] That is how far my intel goes, I am afraid. MH_

[15:29] Promise me you'll keep him safe. SH

_[15:30] I intend to make no such promise, Sherlock. He left by free will. MH_

[15:31] I don't care. Promise me. SH

_[15:35] I warned you this would happen. MH_

[15:36] Put 24/7 surveillance on him and the house. Your best men. Do it. SH

_[15:37] Or what? MH_

[15:38] Just do it. Please? SH

_[15:40] Fine. But only this once. MH_

[15:43] Thank you. SH

_[15:45] You will follow my orders, though. MH_

_[15:47] You will be allowed to work on your case, but you must be taken to rehabilitation when you have solved it. No negotiation. MH_

[15:49] I don't need rehabilitation, Mycroft. SH

_[15:50] You will go, or John Watson will be on his own. MH_

[15:51] That's not fair! I'm not an addict. SH

_[15:52] The choice is up to you. MH_

[15:55] Fine. SH

_[15:56] You will go? MH_

[15:58] I don't need rehab, but I'll go if you keep John alive. SH

_[16:00] John Watson has been assigned the highest level of surveillance available. MH_

[16:01] I'm thankful for that. SH

***

Harry keeps not asking, and John keeps drinking. They sit like that, John on the floor with his back against her couch and Harry on top of it, a glass in their hands and a bottle of whiskey on the floor. When the glasses empty, they refill them in silence. There is something comforting about it and John can finally feel his tense muscles relax. He clears his throat.

"It's over" he finally says, after hours of silence. "He left."

"I know" Harry says quietly.

Silence settles between them again.

 ***

His bed still smells like John.

His face buried in his pillow, Sherlock breathes in his scent, analysing every nuance of it, and stores the information carefully in his mind.

He feels pathetic. He is pathetic. He’s lying in his bed like a heartbroken teenager, wishing John was there inside his arms instead of the pillow that is damp with his tears. Sherlock knows that he should be in Bart’s lab, trying to find clues, evidence, or anything at all that could help him to solve the case and find Moriarty, but he can’t bring himself to move.

 


	31. July 18th 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to vacation, updates have been slow. Sorry!

**July 18 th 2016**

_ [13:15] Hi, John! How are you? Mary _

John's phone buzzes in his pocket and he is startled from his restless sleep. It had been bright daylight by the time he had finally managed to fall asleep. He read the text message. It was from Mary. He hovered over the reply button uncertainly.

[13:20] Hi Mary! I'm good, thanks. How are you? JW

_ [13:21] I'm fine! Haven't heard from you in a while. I thought I'd ask if you care to join me for dinner tonight? :) Mary _

John hesitates.

[13:26] Oh, I'm sorry! I already have plans tonight. :) JW

_ [13:28] Really? What a pity! I've heard of this new restaurant, they say the food's really good. I'd like to try it out with you (smiley) What about tomorrow? Mary _

[13:34] Probably didn't tell you, but I'm joining the military :) I'll be leaving then. JW

_ [13:36] Oh. No, you didn't. So I won't have a chance to see you before you go? Mary _

[13:38] I don't think so :( Sorry! Maybe when I'm back :) JW

_ [13:41] That would be nice :) I like you, John. I'd love to get to know you better. Mary _

[13:42] Likewise :) JW

 

** (22:21) Such an obedient little poppet. I expected more from you, Sherlock Holmes. (????) **

(22:23) Who is this? SH

** (22:25) Consider me a friend. (????) **

(22:26) I don't have friends. SH

** (22:29) No, you certainly don't have John Watson anymore. (????) **

(22:30) Leave him alone. What do you want? SH

** (22:32) Or what? You will come find me? I'm cleverer than you. You don't stand a chance. (????) **

(22:34) Why are you doing this? SH

** (22:36) I'm bored. (????) **

** (22:38) I wonder if John wants to play. (????) **

(22:40) I said leave him out of this. I warn you. I will find you. SH

** (22:42) John Watson is currently residing with his sister in her London apartment. He was last seen leaving the apartment to go for a walk. Do you want to bet who would find him first? (????) **

(22:43) Just tell me what you want. SH

** (22:45) I want you to dance. (????) **

****

[23:02] Are you sure you have your best men watching John? SH

[23:06] I'm not an amateur, brother dear. MH

[23:08] You're not an amateur? Well, explain to me then why Moriarty is still on the loose. SH

_[23:10] I know of Moriarty's exact location. MH_

[23:11] And where might that be? SH

_[23:12] That is of national importance and is nothing I can disclose to you at this moment, I'm afraid. MH_

[23:13] This is my case. I need to know. SH

_[23:15] Don't be silly, Sherlock. It was never 'your' case. We have been monitoring Moriarty for little over a year. MH_

[23:18] And you've just let him murder all those people? SH

[23:19] And you let him threaten me and John? You're enjoying this. SH

_[23:20] It is not that simple, Sherlock, and you know that. Moriarty and I, we have been having a dialogue. MH_

[23:22] Oh, I very well know how simple it is for you to sit on your fat arse and watch while he's making my life hell. SH

[23:22] You've been having a dialogue. How very wonderful. Care to elaborate, brother? SH

_[23:25] I know about his line of work, and he knows about mine. He is a very dangerous man, Sherlock. We made a deal that I do not interfere in his life, and he will not interfere in mine. I was dismantling his criminal web and he found out. This is retaliation. MH_

_[23:27] I warned you not to get involved. MH_

[23:33] It was rather difficult not to get involved. He posted a pic of my face on his website. It was a bit hard to ignore that. But I do see what you're saying. You were too stupid to get caught, and now I'm paying the price for your mistake. SH

_[23:36] We would not be in place had you not gotten involved-- with John Watson. MH_

[23:39] I'm not involved. SH

_[23:42] Is that so? Then I suppose Mr. Watson is not in need of protection. MH_

[23:44] We made a deal. SH

_[23:48] Caring is not an advantage. I am telling you now and I will tell you again. MH_

[23:50] I don't need you to tell me anything. SH

_[23:55] Indeed. MH_


	32. July 19th 2016

**July 19 th 2016**

Sherlock looks desperately at the clock for the tenth time within the last few minutes, staring at it intently, willing time to stop. The weight on his chest seems to grow heavier and heavier with each passing minute, making it hard to breathe. It’s already past ten in the evening, and Sherlock knows he’s running out of time. John will leave London in seven hours and forty-eight minutes to begin his military training, and by then, it will be too late to help him. All his efforts will have been in vain if he lets John walk out the door of his sister’s house before he has solved the case. If John leaves the house while the madman is still out there, Sherlock won’t be able to protect him. He knows that the man is very much capable of hurting John, and Sherlock has every reason to believe that he will do so.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Sherlock breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, in an attempt to quiet his mind of the worried thoughts. He needs to focus.

He’s sitting in St. Bart’s lab, the desk before him a mess, piled with case files and papers, littered with empty coffee cups. He has gone through every piece of information about the bathtub murders, analysed every bit of data, and examined the evidence under his microscope over and over again, but he still can’t understand why the victims were killed, or what their position in the criminal organisation was.     

But Sherlock is determined. He needs to solve the case, needs to find out why those people were killed, and finally put an end to this game. Moriarty’s game. Just thinking his name sends a shiver down Sherlock’s spine, and makes his heart lurch uncomfortably in his chest. The man is a psychopath. Sherlock has never encountered anyone as dangerous as him, and how thrilled would he be to play the game, to study Moriarty, and the brilliant, albeit horrifyingly evil, mind of his if it weren’t for the fact that it isn’t only Sherlock’s life on the line anymore. Hell, he wouldn’t care if it cost him his life. No. The world would probably be better off without him and his rude and obnoxious self. Mycroft would be overjoyed if his annoying baby brother weren’t there to burden him anymore, of that Sherlock is sure, and his parents would be relieved if they wouldn’t have to worry about their failure of a son anymore.

Then the thought hits him like a punch in the stomach. John wouldn’t be in danger in the first place if it weren’t for him and he has to swallow hard against the lump in his throat to keep the acrid bile from rising into his mouth. It’s all his fault. John might die, and it’s his fault.

Fighting the sick feeling swirling inside him, Sherlock closes his eyes and enters his mind palace. He needs to solve the case. It’s the only way he can keep John safe.

***

The bathroom is small and clean. Sherlock scans it with his eyes, taking in every detail, trying to find something he might have missed the first time. There are no products out on display, except for a small bottle of hand soap sitting on the sink, and the cabinets are empty as well. No shampoo, no conditioner, nothing. A minimalist? He takes a closer look at the mirror and, just like he did the first time, he notices the fine layer of dust covering its surface. No, probably not a minimalist. More likely that the victim was rarely at home, that she travelled a lot. Sherlock finds a packed suitcase in her bedroom that confirms his suspicions.

He’s back in the bathroom, staring into the mirror, looking at the bathtub reflected in it. Sherlock spins around on his heels and settles his gaze on the victim. A woman. Mid-40s. Sherlock shoots a look at her left hand. No ring. A boyfriend? A girlfriend? Sherlock takes her phone in his hand and scrolls through her text messages and emails. No affectionate messages, no endearments. No partner, then.

Sherlock sniffs the air. Roses.

He looks around again, but there doesn’t seem to be anything he hasn’t already noticed.

Pinching his eyes closed, Sherlock forces himself to focus. There has to be something he has missed, something he has forgotten. Think. Think. Think!

Oh.

The window. There’s a window in the bathroom, covered by a thin, almost transparent curtain. Sherlock takes a step closer, opens the curtain slightly, and peeks through the window. Trees. A few cars. More trees. A young girl walking her dog. A calm neighbourhood. Irrelevant.

 

Then he sees it. He sees her. A woman standing behind one of the cars, as if she is trying to hide, looking up at the window, up at him. Her expression is serious. Angry? Perhaps. There’s something odd about her.

Sherlock shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Something is wrong. Very wrong. He has seen the woman before, but he doesn’t remember where.

Before he realises it, he’s running. He runs and runs, stumbling along unending corridors, his feet thumping down endless stairs. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Sherlock knows that there’s something important he has ignored, an important clue that has been staring him in the face the whole time. 

He has been stupid. So stupid.

Sherlock is back at the second crime scene, standing in front of a window. He glances out through it, and sees the same woman, this time sitting on a bench. She has covered the most of her face with a newspaper, but her eyes gaze upward toward the window.

Sherlock has to gasp for air. Stupid.

He had seen the woman at each of the four crime scenes. Who was she?

Thrumming with nervous energy, Sherlock exits his mind palace. Disoriented, he rummages through the papers on the desk until he finds his mobile phone. With trembling fingers, his heart racing in his chest, Sherlock opens a new text message.

[23:11] A woman. At every crime scene. Who is she? SH

_[23:14] Annabelle Rose, military background. Lawful citizen. MH_

[23:15] Lawful? You sure about that, brother? SH

_[23:17] Her records are pristine. What are you after, Sherlock? MH_

[23:18] Four crime scenes. She shows up at each of them. Doesn't it make you at all suspicious? SH

_[23:23] We had her background checked several times. There is nothing. She works at the recruitment office, and no suspicious activity. MH_

[23:25] At the same office that recruits John? SH

_[23:27] I fail to see how that is relevant. If there was something to know about her, I would. MH_

[23:34] Oh, you know what? Never mind. You're right. Ignore everything I just said. I'll let you get back to enjoying your night snack. SH

_[23:37] Busy. MH_

 


	33. July 20th 2016 (DEPARTURE DAY)

**July 20 th 2016**

John awakes to the sound of thunder, loud rumbling startling him from his restless sleep. Harry’s living room lights up momentarily, casting shadows around him where he is laying on his back on the hard couch. He sighs heavily and shifts to an upright position.

He hadn’t gotten much sleep at all; his head had been spinning with thoughts and questions. Sherlock was gone, it hurt like fucking hell, and now he was off to start a new life—possibly to never return—and John was utterly _terrified._ It wasn’t like him to be reduced to this mess. Normally he would shrug it off and soldier on, bracing himself for whatever would be thrown at him, but about _this…_ No, he simply couldn’t. Sherlock was out there somewhere doing God-knows-what, possibly something dangerous, and John was stuck here thinking about what could have been if he had just fought a little harder.

His heart physically aches and his fingers are itching to send Sherlock a text, but he knows that he can’t do it. Sherlock had been quite clear that they couldn’t go on talking, and John would respect that. His pride wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise. He fumbles for his phone to check, just in case Sherlock had actually texted him while he was asleep, but his inbox remains stupidly, stubbornly empty.

 

It is 05:21 when John finally moves from the couch and into the bathroom to shower. His head is pounding and his eyes are bloodshot, and he thinks to himself that he is s never going to drink with Harry again. He knows that is a lie as soon as the thought reaches his consciousness, but he is too depressed and too tired to worry about what it might mean, or how alike his father he is becoming. John shudders and turns the shower tap on.

The water is scolding as it pours down over him, and soon his shoulders are pink and aching. John doesn’t care much; he never has when it comes to pain. On some subconscious level he thinks he has always deserved it, and therefore hasn’t paid much mind to it. It is going to be useful in the military, but John doesn’t want to think about that now. He pushes all his thoughts away and closes his eyes, letting the water stream over his face and ears, and he tries to relax his tense muscles. It almost works. _Almost._

 

At 05:53 John is out of the front door with all his belongings packed in a trolley and a pulse of over 120 beats per minute. His left hand is shaking and twitching nervously but he clenches and unclenches it, willing himself to take a deep breath and calm down. _It will all be fine_ , he thinks to himself. _I will be fine; Sherlock will be fine. Everything will be **fine.**_

It really doesn’t feel fine.

He isn’t going to meet his recruitment officer for another hour, but he didn’t want to stay in the house longer than necessary. Harry had cried when he had said goodbye and he really wasn’t good with those kind of things. So he had left early, telling a white lie. Now that he is outside, though, he isn’t really sure what to do.

After a short moment he straightens his back—almost soldier-like—and starts walking down the paved sidewalk toward the set meeting location. It is in a fairly secluded part of town and soon John finds himself walking in circles just to make time lapse faster.

 It doesn’t.

 

A few minutes before he is supposed to meet his officer he sees her on the corner of the alleyway, casually leaning against the brick wall and smoking a cigarette. Her eyes light up when she spots him and he waves at her and jogs over with a smile on his face.

‘Mr. Watson’ she greets him. ‘I wasn’t sure you were going to come. Joining us is a big step.’

‘I know’ he simply replied, too nervous and too scared to say anything else. He instead settled for comfortable silence as he watched her take another drag from her cigarette.

The building behind her doesn’t seem to be inhabited at the moment; all the lights are off and the curtains are drawn, and there is no one down the alleyway toward the main street either. Suddenly their secluded meeting location seems, well… a little odd. He tries to shake the uncomfortable feeling away but Sherlock’s words are nagging in the back of his head; he is in danger.

His thoughts are interrupted when a black car screeches into the alleyway through a sharp turn and stops in front of them, and the smile from his officer’s face fades.

‘Sorry, I didn’t quite get your name’ John says in an attempt to… well, do _something._

‘Rose. I’m Rose’ she says and reaches her palm towards John, and he shakes it.

 

It all happens very quickly.

 

As soon as he is shaking Rose’s hand, she pulls his sleeve up and inserts a needle into his arm and he gasps in surprise just as a deep, baritone voice behind him shouts his name.

‘JOHN!’

He turns, and just before the light goes out in front of his eyes, he swears he sees gorgeous dark curls lining a worried frown.

**_Sherlock._ **


	34. July 20th 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Sorry for the massive delay in updates! We have been flooded in school work, personal life and we have both had severe writer's block. We haven't forgotten this story and it will be continued. Slow and steady wins the race, right?

**July 20 th 2016**

Sherlock stops running, his legs giving way underneath him. Gasping for air, he slumps to the ground, barely noticing the jolt of pain that travels up his legs as his knees collide with the hard surface. He can feel his heart thumping in his throat, the thud of its beat ringing in his ears. He curses between the gasps, slamming his fist into the ground. Too late. He was too late.

Sherlock had tried to follow the black car, but despite his efforts, he hadn't been able to outrun the car and it had disappeared into the horizon with an unconscious John lying in the backseat, leaving behind a trail of dust.

He was supposed to find John before he met the woman so he could warn John, tell him that he had figured it out, solved the case. But he didn't. He had been too stupid and too slow, and Sherlock knows that John is going to pay for it.

With each passing second, John is moving further and further away from him, and he can feel his mind going into shock. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead, and feeling dizzy, Sherlock fumbles in the pockets of his coat with trembling fingers until he finds his mobile phone, growing more panicked as he notices that the battery is running low. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Sherlock somehow manages to punch his brother's number and raise the phone to his ear despite his shaking hands.

 

"I need your help."


	35. Date ?????

**Date ?????**

_’…oh, what a night. Late December, back in ’63, what a very special time for me. As I remember, what a night...’_

The sudden beat of sounds against John’s eardrum pulls him from his deep, dreamless sleep. His head is groggy, but he doesn’t recall downing any liquor the prior day. With a great deal of effort, he opens his right eye but closes it immediately as bright light hits his cornea, and he groans with pain. When he tries to lift his hand to rub his sensitive eyes gingerly, he finally notices…

Restraints.

_‘…oh, I got a funny feeling when she walked in the room. Hey, my, as I recall, it ended much too soon. Oh, what a night…’_

The sudden rush of adrenaline numbs John’s throbbing head and he opens his eyes to his surroundings. He doesn’t recognize where he is, and suddenly it all comes crashing down to him; meeting Rose, the needle in his neck and _Sherlock._ God, he hoped Sherlock was alright. It was rather humorous, he thought to himself, that Sherlock’s wellbeing was the first thing on his mind no matter what situation he found himself in.

Bright, cold, fluorescent lamps hung from the ceiling in the room he was currently in, and the walls were dull and white. He was propped on a chair with his hands back bound and his feet tied to the legs. There were no windows and no indication to where he was being held, and the only other object in the room with him was an oak table on which a small radio stood. It was blaring The Four Season’s ‘December, 1963’, preventing him from listening to sounds from anywhere else. He _hated_ that song.

John turned his neck to the right and spotted the big, rusty door behind him. It looked industrial and was no doubt bolted shut from the outside.

Just as he was turning his head back around he noticed the door handle moving downward, and heard the unmistakable sound of a mechanical lock turning and unlocking.

He remembered her voice very well.

‘Hi, Johnny. Nice to see you again. I need you to send a text.’

 

_Mary._


	36. July 20th 2016

**July 20 th 2016**

Clutching the phone to his ear, Sherlock continues before Mycroft has time to speak. ‘I--John, they have John. We need to save him. Mycroft, I—please’, Sherlock stammers, the panic in his voice obvious to him, but he doesn't care, the only thing occupying his mind being John's safety.

'Sherlock, I really do have more important things to do than to look after your pretend boyfriend' Mycroft replies with an exasperated sigh.

Sherlock feels his heart starting to race faster, pounding almost painfully against his chest. ‘No, Mycroft, this is serious. You need to help him. You--you need to.’  For half a second, he closes his eyes and grimaces, trying to ignore the stinging behind his eyelids. ‘Please.’

There was a long moment of threatening silence before Mycroft eventually gave in.

'Who has him?' he asked matter-of- factly.

‘Annabelle Rose.’

'I will have someone look over the appropriate CCTV footage. When and where was he taken?'

‘There's not enough time, Mycroft! Do it yourself, just--do it, will you? And check the GPS location of my phone, I'm--I'm still here.’

'I will have someone review the appropriate CCTV footage in search of one John Watson' he said, and added 'we will find him.'

Sherlock draws a shaky breath. ‘Do you promise?’

'You know as well as I do that promising is pointless considering the statistical calculations.

Sherlock knows, he knows perfectly well that Mycroft is right, but he can't help it, the tightness in his chest too much to bear. ‘Promise me. Just say it.’

Mycroft sighs.

'Very well, brother. I promise.'

‘Thank you,’ Sherlock mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper.

'A car will be with you in three minutes and fourty five seconds' Mycroft says and hangs up.

 

Sherlock’s phone gives a last warning beep before going dead as he stuffs it back into his pocket with trembling fingers. He has three minutes and twenty-six seconds left before a car pulls up, three minutes and twenty-six seconds left to get himself together before one of Mycroft’s men sees the state he’s in, but he can’t bring himself to move, can’t bring himself to care, his pride being the last thing on his mind.

For a moment Sherlock feels frozen in place, his mind blank, teetering on the edge of panic. He is still on his knees, his legs refusing to obey the simple command to stand up. Every rational thought seems to hover out of the reach of his mind, as he feels a surge of fear spreading through him, pulsating through every nerve in his body and settling deep into the pit of his stomach.

They’ve got John.

They’ve got John and they’re going to kill him.

Sherlock gives his head a violent shake, knowing that panicking is the worst thing he can do in this situation. The worst thing he can do to John.

He needs to focus. He needs to save John.


	37. Date ?????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2017 UPDATE: lots of things have been going on and the fanfiction writing has been put on hold for a very long time. Our sincerest apologies for the time in between chapters. Hopefully we'll be able to push more content out soon! Love!

**Date ?????**

‘A text?’ John asks, sounding as incredulous as he feels. ‘You didn't have to kidnap me for that.’

He knows he shouldn't provoke the woman standing in front of him when ultimately he is in her grasp, but he can't help himself. Joking has always been his lifeline and survival strategy, and this situation is no different. 

To his surprise, Mary chuckles light-heartedly.

‘I suppose not’ she says and flashes him a crooked smile. ‘Consider it reassurance on my behalf. If this does not play out the way it's supposed to, both you and I are going to be  _ very  _ sorry.’

John swallows but doesn't let the crippling fear take over. He needs to be strong, for Sherlock.

‘To send a message you will have to cut me loose’ John says casually, and Mary flashes him another smile. He used to think she was beautiful, but there is nothing appealing about her now. She is a predator, and he her prey.

‘I'm certain that won't be necessary’ she says. ‘I just need your phone.’

She walks over to him and fishes his phone out of his pocket, quickly typing out a message and hitting the send button.

‘A photograph of our location’ she explains, although John doesn't ask. ‘It shouldn't take him long to figure out where to find us.’

John doesn't say anything, but secretly prays to himself that Sherlock won't come for him. 

‘Now comes the fun part’ Mary says. ‘ _ Your  _ part.’

Something clenches uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach.


	38. July 21st 2016

**July 21st 2016**

Mycroft’s office is large and intricately decorated. Two tall Victorian windows overlook the well-managed estate grounds, and the room is dimly lit from the pale moonlight sifting through the open burgundy curtains. Sherlock is pacing nervously around the room, his fine leather shoes echoing faintly on the large persian carpet that covers most of the dark chestnut flooring. Large bookshelves cover most of the walls and Sherlock finds himself scanning the books for any titles that could provide useful information, but fails to do so. Mycroft sits behind his enormous santos mahogany desk and looks at him with annoyance.

‘That carpet is expensive’ he complains. ‘Stop wearing it down.’

Sherlock ignores his brother’s annoyed demeanor but stops pacing and throws himself heavily onto Mycroft’s expensive leather couch, watching his brother’s poorly hidden grimace as the wooden legs make a cracking sound from the suddenly added weight.

He is restless and his thoughts are racing uncontrollably back and forth, and he is getting frustrated by his own inadequacy. His nerves are on edge and his skin itches; he is nervously picking skin off his fingertips, hardly even noticing the small drops of blood that are collecting by his fingernails. Ever since John had been, there had been complete radio silence. No ransom demands, no threatening phone calls, no texts.  _ Nothing. _

Mycroft eyes him inconspicuously as Sherlock flips sideways on the couch and buries his face in the expensive leather. There are too many emotions displayed on his face and he knows Mycroft can see each and every one of them, picking him apart with his judging stare. It makes his skin prickle uncomfortably but he shrugs it off.

He forces himself back into his mind palace in search of something useful. There  _ has  _ to be something useful - possible locations or routes where they could have taken John.

With feverish frustration, Sherlock searches every crevice of his mind, looking into every memory, every subtle observation he's ever filed away in the corners of his mind, running through dark corridors and rummaging in the deepest recesses.

Suddenly, a beep from his phone quickly snaps him back to reality and Sherlock, not thinking straight, fumbles in his pockets before realising that his phone is plugged into the charger and laying on Mycroft's desk. The little black device is in Mycroft’s hands before Sherlock can reach it.

‘Give it to me’ Sherlock practically spits, as he tries to get a hold of his phone. 

Mycroft rolls his eyes at the ceiling and holds out the phone in his open palm, cocking an eyebrow as if to warn Sherlock against doing anything hasty.

‘Mycroft.’

Sherlock’s tone is a warning, but Mycroft doesn’t seem bothered.

‘It is for your own good, brother dear’ Mycroft says and unlocks the phone. After peering at the incoming text, Mycroft gives the phone back to Sherlock.

****

 

**[02:39]** **JW[Mobile? See picture here.](https://imgur.com/a/Ajo9H)**

At seeing the picture, Sherlock's heart goes cold. He's not stupid. He knows it's a trap. But if he can save John, he will take the risk. He's ready to sacrifice his safety for the boy. Saving him is the least he can do. After all, it's his fault that John was kidnapped in the first place. He had been too caught up in emotions, too tangled up in sentiment, to realise what was going on, too stupid to solve the case. And now he has to pay for it.

Sherlock closes his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath through his nostrils, feeling his chest expand. Into battle, he thinks, closing his fist around the phone.

“I do hope you realise it's a trap,” Mycroft says condescendingly but Sherlock doesn’t hear him. He is only vaguely aware of Mycroft’s protests as he pushes the door to the office open and hurries out into the cold, dark night. 


	39. Date ?????

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, we have made some changes to the story. In the text that Mary sends Sherlock there are no longer coordinates included. We realized it was pretty stupid, why would she include coordinates?
> 
> Secondly, we are looking for a beta-reader! Feel free to contact either sherlockianworld or elle_m if you’re interested, and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.

**Date ?????**

John can feel the batter of his heart pulsing in his ears, fear swelling in his chest. His throat feels tight, dry. Swallowing past the dryness, he shifts his gaze toward Mary's eyes. “My part?” John manages, his voice thick with panic. He swallows loudly as Mary turns the mobile phone screen toward him to show him the message. It's a picture of an industrial-looking building that he should recognize, but he has no recollection of the exterior. He cocks an eyebrow at Mary and shakes his head.

‘What is the point of  _ this’  _ he says and gestures with his eyes toward his restraints - ‘if you are going to give away the location anyway?’

Mary chuckles, mocking him, her laugh echoing off the walls, raising the hairs on the back of John’s neck. John stifles his cringe at the hollowness of her voice. No sign of the kindness and warmth he once saw in her remains in her cold look.

‘You are the bait.’

Now it's John’s turn to laugh.

‘Bait?’ he says, unbelieving. ‘What makes you think he will come?’

‘Oh, don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet?’ Mary tsks, her lips twisting into a mocking smirk.

‘Figured out what?’ John asks before he can stop himself. He feels a trickle of sweat sliding down his spine, making his shirt cling to his back. Instead of answering his question, Mary walks up behind him and puts her hands on his shoulders. She bends down a little and pulls something out of her pocket. He feels the restraints on his hands and feet loosen, and Mary takes a quick step toward the door from where she came. Gingerly, John rubs his wrists in a feeble attempt to get the blood flowing properly again. Unsteadily, he tests the weight of his body on his sore ankles and stands. Mary looks at him.

‘Follow me’ she beckons. ‘And don’t even think about trying anything.’

She beckons toward the two large, muscular men outside the door to follow them and walks out, leaving John struggling to keep up with her swift stride. The two men, all dressed in black shoes, black jeans and shirts, seem to loom above him from behind. John doesn’t turn around to look at them, his eyes fixed stubbornly on the back of Mary’s blonde head.

He walks in silence for two minutes before curiosity gets the better of him. 

‘Where are we going?’ he asks, but is only met by silence.

They walk for what seems like hours, although not much more than five minutes could have passed. They walk up and down rusted stairs, through gray concrete corridors with broken windows. Cold air is sifting through the gaps in the broken glass and it makes John shiver uncomfortably. From what he can glimpse through the cracks, they are several stories up, but it’s too dark to see much else.

John considers attacking her, throwing his arm around her neck, or grabbing her from behind, locking her arms behind her back, but the steady pounding of two sets of feet against the concrete floor reminds him of the two rather big men behind him, who certainly are more than willing to stop him if he is foolish enough to try anything. He doesn’t stand a chance to whatever is coming, and he knows it.

It is with determination in his strides that he continues on.

*****

Sherlock knows he doesn’t have much time before Mycroft’s men are going to stop him, but he has to use the head start to his advantage. Adrenaline is burning hot in his veins as gets in his brother’s black SUV and puts the keys -- pickpocketed, of course -- in the ignition. It isn’t often that he finds himself driving. In the dense traffic of London it is much more comfortable to travel by taxi, relaxing in the leather clad back seat, overlooking the city outside the windows.

He ignores the many chimes from his phone and switches it to silent; Mycroft will find him anyway. 

Sherlock feels sweat form on his hands as he wraps them around the wheel, his skin clammy against the black leather. His heart is hammering in his chest, jumping against his ribs like a caged animal. Finding out where John is held captive had been easy--he had used the Google Images search to locate the building in the photograph which he had received. It had been child's play, too easy, he thinks, grimacing. Sherlock knows he's driving blindly into an obvious trap.

There is this gnawing thought in the back of his head -- an uneasy tugging at his conscience he is unable to shake -- that this might not be worth risking his life over. All of Mycroft’s countless warnings that he had pretended to ignore growing up had crept their way in.  _  All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.  _ He had put up a facade that he was above it all, but there was doubt gnawing at his heartstrings now. Had he let himself get sentimental about someone who, in the end, didn’t care? The forbidden thought that John might not even be  _ alive  _ flutters to his attention, but he suppresses it as soon as it arises. He can’t lose himself to fear -- not now.

Not when he’s come this far. Turning back now would be stupid, like admitting failure. He knows he’s being reckless, even mad, but no way would he give Mycroft the satisfaction of calling him a coward. He’d never be able to live it down. With determination and adrenaline surging through his veins, he presses down hard on the gas pedal.

Although it is only a twenty-minute drive, it feels like it has been hours when Sherlock finally pulls over near the old, abandoned factory, his clammy fingers trembling with adrenaline. As he steps out of the car, he wipes away the sweat that's making his curls stick to his forehead. He slams the car door shut, grimacing as it shuts with a loud bang. He doesn’t want his arrival to be announced just yet. The four-story brick building towers above him as he scans the surroundings for any people, listening for footsteps. There’s no sign of movement, nor is there any sound except the beating of his own heart, and Sherlock proceeds silently around the corner, his pulse pounding in his throat. 

There is no movement in any of the windows, although it is dark inside and Sherlock struggles to adapt his eyes to the darkness. He squats down onto the pebbled ground and squints to make his vision clearer. He takes a delicate step forward, lowered below the first window on the ground floor when he steps on something metal, the clinking sound unfamiliar to his ears and to the shuffle of small pebbles. He moves his foot and braces himself against the wall with his left hand, his right hand lowering to pick up what he had stood on for further inspection.

In the pale moonlight he can make out that it's some sort of necklace - a silvery chain with a square metal plate - and Sherlock runs a finger across the surface. On the square tag he can feel something is engraved, and he turns the small metal plate toward the light to get a better view.

“JOHN HAMISH WATSON   
MALE   
BLOODTYPE: O-"

Grinding his teeth together, Sherlock clenches the necklace in his fist. He has no idea what they might have done to John, and he wants to keep it that way as long as possible, pushing any unpleasant thoughts to the back of his mind. He tries to focus on the present, determined to solve the situation just like any other case, aiming to stay cold and calculating. Taking a deep breath, Sherlock opens his fist and casts a glance at the tag again, willing his racing heart to calm down. John’s necklace laying on the ground, ripped off, suggests that either he had put up a fight with his kidnappers or that the necklace had been planted on purpose, but Sherlock can’t quite wrap his mind around the possible implications, the crushing worry about John’s well being taking up too much space.

Trying to ignore the panic constricting his throat, Sherlock thrusts the necklace in his pocket and continues walking, the moon behind him lighting his path. As he reaches the back door, another wave of panic hits him, almost making him stumble as his legs suddenly transform into jelly, wobbling under his weight like the sugary gelatinous mass on Mycroft’s daily dessert plate. Sherlock stares at the door that has been left open. A queasy feeling gnaws at his stomach while he lets the reality of it sink in, the meaning igniting a nauseous churning deep in his belly. They had let the door open for him, knowing he would be stupid enough to come. Sherlock can picture the kidnappers laughing at him, mocking him like the kids at school used to, only this time the voices aren't calling him a freak. Instead, they sneer at him, saying he is a fool, a fool guided by his feelings, just a teenage boy playing hero.

Swallowing against the dryness in his parched throat, Sherlock squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and forces himself to step through the open door. He has not come this far to back away now.

The corridor in which he finds himself is engulfed in darkness. Sherlock holds his breath, listening for any sounds, but the night remains eerily silent. Although the building seems deserted there are miniscule signs of life; a burned out cigarette bud lays on the ground beneath his feet, and there is a trail of dirt unmistakably leading further into the darkness. Sherlock bends down and picks the cigarette bud up with two fingers. It is still moist at the tip from saliva and still smells freshly of smoke -- it is at most two hours old.

His mind starts running wild again, thoughts about what could have happened to John in the past two hours trying to occupy the foreground of his consciousness. Sherlock bites his inner cheek, hard, in an attempt to shove away the thoughts by focusing on the pain, the metallic taste of blood trickling from his bitten cheek. The pain jolts him back to the present, and he starts feeling his way along the wall, squinting in the darkness, too afraid to use his phone as a flashlight. Sherlock's steps gain confidence as he sees a faint outline of a staircase leading upward into the quiet unknown. Without thinking, he starts climbing the stairs as quietly as possible, taking two stairs at a time, not wanting to waste any more time.

A draft from a poorly boarded up broken window makes the hairs on the back of Sherlock’s neck stand but he pushes past it. The stairs seem to never end as he continues making his way upward, feeling the dirt on the concrete steps under the soles of his shoes. He doesn’t realise he’s been holding his breath until he has to gasp for air. He is so close he can feel it.

It only takes him another two minutes to locate the room he was supposed to find; a large rectangular open room two stories high, with four thick marble pillars holding the ceiling up. He enters through a large double-door in the back of the room. Moonlight shines down through what must have once been a beautiful circular ceiling window, but just like the rest of the building it has broken and deteriorated into disarray. The dark red brick walls are windowless on the first floor, but further up there are boarded-up windows and window shutters. The stone floor is illuminated by moonlight, but the windows are shrouded in shadows. Sherlock can make out the shape of a person standing on the other end of the room, and a door in the right corner only partly concealed behind the right pillar.

At the sight of Sherlock, the figure walks further into the room and into the bright circle of moonlight. 

It is Rose. There is no sight of John.

‘Rose’ Sherlock greets her, his voice carefully nonchalant and steady. ‘Where is he?’

The woman smirks, her lips turning up in a half grin. ‘Mr Holmes,’ she says with mock courtesy, ‘we meet at last.’ Flicking ash from her cigarette, she takes two steps closer to Sherlock, her boots thumping against the concrete. She takes a long drag on her cigarette, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she blows out the smoke. ‘You’ve been a real pain in the arse, you know? Sniffing around, playing detective.’ Her voice is nonchalant, cold. 

‘Where. is. he?’ Sherlock hisses through gritted teeth. 

Rose laughs, the echo of her voice cool and hollow in the large room. ‘Easy boy. You’ll meet him soon enough.’

‘I swear, if you’ve done anything to John--’ Sherlock is terrified, but he feels brave nevertheless, his voice unwavering.

‘John is fine,’ a male voice says from beyond the doorway to his right. It’s still rather far away but Sherlock would recognize that voice anywhere.  _ John.  _

Footsteps echo from the corridor and from the rhythm and pattern Sherlock can tell John is not alone. The second pair of feet are lighter but sharper, probably belonging to a woman wearing heels. John exits the door and enters the room first, and Mary follows shortly after.

‘Hello, Sherlock’ Mary says and Sherlock notices that her hand is firmly clasped in John’s.


	40. Date ?????

**Date ?????**

Sherlock feels paralysed, frozen to the spot as he stares at the two joined hands. Suddenly, he feels cold, as if his blood has been replaced by ice cold water, an icy feeling penetrating him to his very core. For what feels like eternity, he doesn’t speak, he doesn’t breathe, he doesn’t so much as blink. Sherlock opens his mouth, but closes it again, all his words and witty remarks seeming to die before they can even reach his lips. His brain struggles to process the sight before him, and Sherlock shuts his eyes, willing it all to go away, his thoughts screaming at him to wake up, but when he opens his eyes again, John and Mary are still there, holding hands. No, no, no, no, no, _ no _ ! 

‘John?’ Sherlock rasps finally, his voice hoarse, weak. He winces. He feels as if all the air is sucked out of him, as if there’s not enough air in his lungs to speak. Sherlock feels numb, too numb with shock to feel the pain. He has been so stupid, so utterly foolish to think that someone as gorgeous and funny and beautiful as John would want to be friends with a freak like him. He had let his guard down and invited the boy to his home, into his life, into his heart which he had guarded for so long. And now his brother’s words are echoing in his mind, telling Sherlock “I told you so, I told you not to get involved”.

Sherlock’s instinct of self-preservation vanishes as he continues to stare at John’s tanned hand twined with Mary’s. Suddenly, he doesn’t care anymore. He’s ready to admit defeat, the stinging behind his eyes blurring his vision. But then John speaks.

‘Sherlock’ John says, his voice cold and calculating. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’ John motions toward his and Mary’s conjoined hands and gives Sherlock a smirk. ‘Took you long enough.’ 

The words, the setting, the ruthlessness about John -- it’s like a punch in the stomach. Sherlock can’t breathe and he can’t stop looking at John’s face. 

His blonde hair is ruffled as if he’s recently woken up and his lips are red and swollen. There is a firm determination in his stance; his shoulders are tense, his back straight, and his left hand is clenching and unclenching subconsciously. Sherlock aches to reach out and touch him, to make sure he is real and this is actually happening. More than that he longs for a fix.

‘Did you figure it out yet?’ John asks and takes a tentative step forward with Mary on tow. ‘Genius and all’ he adds and gesticulates dismissively in Sherlock’s direction. 

Sherlock’s heart drops, plummeting to the pit of his stomach. An ache starts in his chest--it’s relentless and crippling, pushing through the numbness he’d felt just moments ago. Sherlock struggles to breathe, an invisible rope tightening around his lungs. His chest feels tight, his throat feels tight. He feels like he's  _ dying _ . 

‘John,’ Sherlock manages, ‘stop it. Stop this.’ He stands motionless, his heart stuck in his throat, pulsing erratically. Thoughts are swirling through his head, slipping away from him like sand through his fingers, and unable to grab hold of any of them, he continues staring stupidly at the two hands, fingers laced together. Sherlock wants to rip their hands apart.

John barks a throaty laugh, the sound cold and somehow off-key, so unlike the John he’s heard on the phone. ‘You know, I feel quite sorry for you,’ he says coldly, ‘for being such a fucking  _ fool _ .’ He spits out the last word, as though it tastes like stale beer on his tongue.

The word hits him like a physical blow, and Sherlock has to use every last bit of his strength not to let his knees buckle. He is thankful that John’s eyes are cast down, he couldn’t bear the humiliation of him seeing the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, threatening to open a floodgate. Like a crushing wave, disbelief washes over him, followed by anguish and choking pain. There is no room for fear--the pain is overwhelming, sitting deep in his chest as if a bullet has pierced it. Sherlock feels as if he’s on the verge of collapsing, the room appearing blurred around the edges.

‘Poor kid,’ Mary says sarcastically, ‘you really thought John would like someone like  _ you _ ?’ Turning toward John, she laughs lightly: ‘Oh, look at him. You made the little freak cry.’ She twists her mouth in mock compassion.

‘Well, I’m not surprised. Probably thought he’d finally managed to make a friend of someone.’

And then, John’s hand lifts to stroke Mary’s cheek, and Sherlock’s world comes crumbling down. Suddenly, everything feels far away, as if he’s watching someone else’s dream. Everything slows down, goes silent. John’s fingers are tangled in Mary’s hair, gently drawing her head toward him. Sherlock can’t hear anything, although he sees Mary’s lips moving. He can only stare, disoriented, as John’s lips come down on hers, in an all-too-familiar way, in a way Sherlock had imagined, in his forbidden dreams, them coming down on his. Before he knows it, Sherlock is backing out of the room, stumbling on his unsteady legs.

Halfway out the door, Sherlock falls down on his knees, clutching his stomach with both hands. Nausea hits him like a wave and he has to blink hard to prevent the edges of his vision from going blurry. Forcing himself to move forward, he pushes himself off the ground with his hands and runs outside through the darkness, having stored the path he took in his mind palace as he entered.

As flings himself through the open back door and out into the night, he feels the bile rising up through his nostrils and mouth, the acidic liquid burning in his throat, and Sherlock is violently sick on the ground where he not long ago had picked up John’s identity tag. His stomach is heaving violently and he struggles to catch his breath, wiping his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his coat. With trembling fingers he unbuttons his Belstaff and peels it off his sweat soaked skin. Resisting the urge to collapse on the ground and stay there, Sherlock struggles to keep his balance, leaning forward, his hands on his knees, his throat burning from the acid. How could he have been so  _ stupid? _

Sherlock had let someone in, and look what had happened. Mycroft was going to be so disappointed in him. Although Sherlock claimed not to care about what his brother thought of him, he and Mycroft both knew that wasn’t true. How was he going to look into his brother’s eyes and explain what had happened -- how he had let something so pitiful and pathetic as  _ sentiment  _ get in the way of what really mattered? He knew that he wouldn’t be able to lie to him about what had happened; his brother was even more perceptive than he was, and the truth would be desperately displayed on his face. No, it just wouldn’t do -- he had to do something to make the situation seem different.

As he painfully gets himself off the ground and onto his feet, he closes his eyes and listens for footsteps, but it doesn’t seem like anybody had followed him. He bends down slightly and fumbles on the ground for a rock or large pebble. When he finds one large enough for what he intends to do, he grabs it firmly in his left hand and walks up to the window next to the door from which he had just exited. With as much force as he can muster he throws the stone into the small square in the window which still has glass, and hears the satisfying sound of it breaking and scattering in pieces on the floor on the inside of the building. He quickly goes back inside and picks up the largest shard he can find, and then he’s back out into the cold night. If his calculations are correct, Mycroft’s men should be here in 1 minutes and 23 seconds, which gives him plenty of time to prepare. He is determined. It needs to seem as though Sherlock has been in a fight -- a physical one -- to hide his inner emotional turmoil. It’s really not his best plan, but it’s all he has.

With the glass in one hand and his Belstaff draped over the other, he walks as quickly as he can muster up to the main road where his car is currently parked. He is in no state to drive, but he does rest his weight on the hood as he throws his coat on the ground. He hesitates momentarily before grabbing a proper hold of the glass, but then he steels himself. Unblinking, he doesn’t even wince as the glass slices a deep cut on his forehead, and he can feel warm liquid drip down the side of his cheeks and down onto his chin, pooling at the top of his shirt. With precision he makes small cuts on his chin, beneath his right eye, and on his arms and torso, matching the wounds sustained when blocking a knife attack. The pain dulls his other senses, and he only bites down on his bottom lip when he pushes the glass as deep into his side as he can manage, blood pouring out the moment he retracts his weapon.

Although Mycroft may not see through his bluff immediately, a medical professional will be able to tell his wounds are self-inflicted. With a sigh he throws the glass away in the dark where Mycroft won’t see it, and lets himself fall backwards onto the pavement, his skull hitting the ground hard enough to cause a concussion, and he can see his vision darkening around the edges.

Sherlock can hear the distant sound of sirens now, indicating his calculations were correct; Mycroft and his minions are nearly here. Emptiness fills his chest as he closes his eyes and surrenders himself to unconsciousness.

*****

Sherlock regains consciousness during the ambulance ride but keeps his eyes shut. He listens to the sound of the siren that's blaring outside and to the low murmur of voices from within the vehicle. Struggling to shift his focus to the conversation he struggles to make sense of what they are saying, only catching some words here and there, but they’re all a useless mess. His head is swimming, his limbs feel heavy, but he tries to fight the urge to surrender to oblivion, tries to stay conscious despite his whole body begging him to let go.

His whole body is aching and pounding from dull pain, but he can hardly feel it for the sharp stabbing pain in his chest and heart.

***

When Sherlock opens his eyes, he is blinded by glaring white fluorescent lights. His hands are firmly grabbing rough sheets beneath him and there is an electric beeping coming from somewhere in his vicinity. Squinting against the harsh light, he tries to adjust to his surroundings, panicked and disoriented, desperately gasping for more air. He can hear the vague shuffling of shoes against smooth and hard surfaces, but everything seems distant and far away, blurred around the edges of his consciousness. Struggling to make the images before him sharpen, he closes his eyes and lets his body relax, carefully unclenching his hands and stretching them slowly. Somebody says something to him but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t hear, doesn’t care. Metal clinks against metal, more feet shuffle on the floor, curtains are drawn, machines are adjusted. Somebody touches his forehead, a door shuts, and all that remains is silence.

Slowly everything around him starts coming into focus; a heart monitor stands on the left side of his hospital bed, and on his right is a shabby looking hospital recliner upon which Sherlock’s Belstaff coat is hung. Sherlock pushes himself into a sitting position, ignoring the pounding ache of his skull. Suddenly it all comes rushing back to him: Mary, John. The kiss. 

Hot liquid blurs his vision and spills down onto his cheeks and he knows that he just has to get away. Away from  _ here,  _ away from his thoughts; away from everything.

With clumsy, trembling hands he rips off the electrodes on his chest and unhooks the saline solution bag from the IV port attached to his arm. He stands on unsteady legs, unhooks the power cord to the heart monitor and puts his Belstaff on over his hospital clothes. It’s long enough to disguise the fact that he’s a patient, at least upon a quick glance, and it will just have to do. He can’t stay in this hospital when there is a gaping hole in his chest; a dark entity consuming him from within. He has to leave.

He finds his shoes on a shoe rack next to the door and quickly toes them on. He feels cold sweat prickling his forehead as he peeks through the closed curtains into the hospital corridor outside. It is suitably empty and he quickly opens the door and takes a sharp right toward the elevators. He keeps his head down to not attract unwanted attention, but his hands fidget in his coat pockets as he waits for the elevator to signal its arrival.

The metal doors slide open with a ‘pling’ and Sherlock quickly ushers inside. As the doors close he allows his shoulders to slump and his knees to buckle a little, his right hand firmly on the elevator’s handrail. As the elevator makes its painfully slow descent, Sherlock forms a plan in his head. He needs a break from his thoughts, to erase the image of Mary and John pressing their lips together, the way John’s head tilted slightly to allow him better acc-- Mary better access. With the palm of his hand he presses down against his chest until he can feel the outline of a small bag and a syringe.  _ Good, they forgot to search the coat. _

No one stops him on the way out of the hospital, and with determination he starts walking away from prying eyes. Soon he finds himself in a dark, deserted alleyway. 


End file.
